The Fierce Brave Gang - Born This Way (AU)
by a-slightcatchoflightning
Summary: Dylan doesn't expect so much to come from a patient with a chest injury - A casualty AU of oldpalegoth's FBG AU. General Trigger Warnings for: transphobia, blood, bruising, abuse, abuse mention, violence Any others will be listed at the beginning of the chapters
1. How it all began

"This is Unknown… Female by birth…" Iain started, uncertain and stumbling over his words, which was unusual for him, as he paced into the ED, pushing a trolley. A teenage girl of about seventeen was being wheeled through on the stretcher, and gauze could be seen wrapped tightly around her chest, where her plaid shirt lay torn, open and bloody. Dylan couldn't help but be surprised by the sight.

"GCS 15, pulse 95, BP 120 over 60, in and out of consciousness since boarding…" Iain continued rattling off statistics, and Dylan forced himself to step across the ED and grab the other side of the trolley.

"Straight to cubicles please." He uttered, steering the stretcher towards the double doors "-Cause of incident?" he glanced back down at the currently unconscious girl, messily cropped curls clustered around her pale, sloping face. He felt a shiver pass down his spine at the evidently pained expression carved into her skin despite the painkillers. He knew what he was to hear expecting before he even heard it.

"We suspect attempted self-breast tissue removal" came the soft reply from Iain.

Seb groaned from across the room as they lifted the girl from the trolley onto the bed.

"You okay Seb?" Dylan asked, snide with sarcasm as he turned to face him, fists on hips.

"Fine… Just makes me retch to think there's a-" He paused, "Don't worry" he muttered, reading the expression flashing across the faces of the rest of the doctors in the room. He turned and continued filling needles.

Dylan shook his head at the childish attitude of the new F1 and turned to Rita, calling her name. The small blonde nurse nodded and came over to where the girl lay, grabbing a clean clipboard from the end of the bed.

"Excuse me, please… Is my daughter here?" A straight-backed woman in a burgundy pencil skirt and flowing white blouse with neat, black curly hair all but ran up to reception where Noel stood, tracing the phone longingly. His eyes snapped up and he was silent for a second. She had hazel-brown eyes and a small, pouted mouth, her skin tone contrasting a little with the darkness of her hair. Her eyes were wide and worried and her hands were clasped around her bag.

"S-sorry" Noel coughed and looked down at the bare notebook in front of him. "What's her name?"

"Adrienne… Adrienne Chiltern –I got home from work and my neighbour said an ambulance had been called. No one thought to phone me… There's blood on the bathroom floor…"

"I'm so sorry, that isn't the usual procedure of the NHS… Someone should have called you." Noel rubbed his forehead and tapped his pen against the pad again. "I can put a call through to resus… see if she's there. If you'd like to wait in the waiting area" he gestured towards the rows of chairs, housing pre-patients in various levels of distress, "I can put you through once they've found her."

Something flashed across the woman's face, but it was so brief, Noel barely picked up on it. "What do you expect me to do? Aren't you supposed to know who you have in here?"

"We are, but what's most likely happened is that your daughter was unconscious at the scene or needed to be moved quickly and the paramedics didn't have time…" Noel trailed off as Cal came over, grabbing a new stack of folders from the shelf. "Ah Cal, could you try and find Adrienne Chiltern for Mrs…" He trailed off once more.

"Miss Chiltern, Miss Julia Chiltern" The woman reached out her hand briskly and Cal, also captivated by the woman's good looks, desperately juggled the folders in order to take it.

"Of course I can" He smirked at her flirtatiously, backing off when she glared at him for a split-second.

"Thankyou" she muttered grimly, walking back to the waiting area and grimacing as she took a seat furthest away from the coughing, bleeding people, staring into space glumly.

Dylan leant over the patient, ready to cut away her shirt, when she sat up fiercely, despite the pain.

"Make one more move" she hissed.

"Hello, I'm Dr Keogh, you're at Holby City Hospital-" Dylan began, but he was cut off by the girl's struggling.

"No! I thought I was going to die… I didn't need help I can do this myself!" She thrashed against the hands of both Dylan and Rita, before paling, her eyes widening.

"It's okay honey" Rita uttered softly, placing a hand on either of the girl's shoulders. "We need to get to your chest darling, you're quite injured and it could get worse…"

The girl looked up at Rita, but Rita could see she wasn't truly seeing. It was as if she was looking through her to behind.

"Sorry" she whispered, lying back down and cringing as Dylan came closer with the scissors to cute her shirt away.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut it because I risk injuring you further if you just take it off" he explained, and she nodded through hazy eyes.

"You okay honey?" Rita asked, taking the girls hand and trying not to wince when she squeezed it hard.

"Yeah sorry" The girl muttered, twitching anxiously as Dylan peeled the cut shirt away from her front.

"Can you explain what happened?" Dylan asked, but got no response from the girl who shook her head.

"We really need to know honey." Rita asked her gently.

"I'm sorry" she whimpered, coughing brokenly, "It was all a mistake; I just wanted to feel pain."

"Don't apologise sweetie" Rita whispered, removing the gauze pads gently, "I think we need more morphine" she told him, as Ethan left to order a CT scan.

"500mg" Dylan uttered, as he examined the girl's chest. "Two incisions made, we'll wait for CT and if it's all-clear on soft tissue damage, we can stitch, and you can be out of here." He tried to sile down at her, but was still haunted by the expression on her face. "We'd recommend referral to one of our clinical psychologists" he offered, but still got no response.

Trying not to sigh, Dylan applied new gauze to her chest and a nurse passed her a gown. "Put this on… You can draw the curtain, and then we'll take you up to CT" The nurse smiled and Rita helped her to sit up, as Dylan walked away.

Once they were alone together, the girl snapped into life, "Do you help people?" she asked, grabbing Rita's lower arm and staring hard into her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm a nurse, of course I help people" Rita crouched down to be at eye level with the girl, whose legs were swung over the edge of the bed, "Is there something you need to tell me?"

"I'm not a girl."

"Okay. I understand."

"I can't keep doing this and pretending to be Adrie-" The boy cut off mid-sentence and licked his lips nervously, taking the gown from Rita.

"What do you mean?" Rita asked. Having done her extended medicine certificate in gender transitions, she was fairly sure she knew, but she had to check.

"My mum doesn't believe in it, but it's fine. I shouldn't be a boy because I'm born a girl it's fine."

"It's not fine if you're hurting darling" Rita reached out, but the boy shrank away from her touch, so she pulled her hand back in.

"If I say something, will you believe me?"

"Of course I will."

"CT's ready!" Max called, entering "… Isn't she supposed to be in a gown?"

"Yes thankyou Max, we were just getting to that" Rita muttered, drawing the curtain.

"Please don't leave me" the boy whispered, his hand still on Rita's arm.

"I'll be just outside the curtain, okay?"

"Oh okay" he whispered, quieter this time, and removed his hand from her arm.

Miss Chiltern sat across from a man with a bleeding wound on his arm and picked up her phone. "Little shit had better not tell anyone if she wants to keep her dignity." She wrote to her boyfriend, smiling as she pressed send.

"If you'd like to lie down here, the CT should take about 20 minutes" Dylan told the boy, helping him get into the correct position. "Ready?"

He nodded, clenching and unclenching his fists and Dylan gave him a small half-smile back, which only he caught. He decided he like Dr Keogh.


	2. Adrienne

"Only ten minutes left…" Dylan trailed off, "Sorry what's your name?"

"Adrienne"

"And your real name?"

"I like Ben… sorry"

"No, Ben it is then."

"Thankyou"

Ben had been lying in the scanner for ten minutes, and so far had kept his claustrophobia under check, but it was getting harder by the second. He couldn't help but feel trapped on the sliding panel that held him still in the confines of the metal tube.

"H-how long?" His mouth was dry and his voice cracked as he waited for the reply.

"Nine minutes, we're nearly done"

He tried to focus on the buzzing light of the CT and count his breaths but all at once, they seemed to be rushing too fast like a waterfall filling his chest and his legs were shaking, but numb. Tears flowed down his face as the bed was slid out of the CT and Dr Keogh stood over him. He flinched instinctually, interpreting the look on Dylan's face as one of annoyance, not seeing the fear and worry that it actually held.

"Here, sit up" Dylan gently helped the boy into a sitting position and jumped as he pulled his knees to his chest rapidly and closed his eyes, panting heavily. "It's okay, you're okay" He said softly, not entirely sure how else to alleviate the boy's panic other than by waiting it out with him. He looked to where Rita and Seb stared through the glass and gestured for them to leave, and give the boy and himself some privacy.

Taking a seat next to the boy, Dylan put an arm around his shoulders, which he sank into, his back relaxing a little more. "Why didn't you say you were claustrophobic, eh?" he asked, his voice soft and patient. It wasn't like him to react to other's emotions like this and it took him aback a little, but he kept pushing through.

"Di-didn't wanna cause trouble" Ben hiccoughed, trying to halt his crying.

"It's not trouble…" Dylan mumbled gently into the boy's curls as Ben turned to face him.

"C-can I hug you please?" The tears in his eyes made them glisten even more than before and Dylan couldn't help but nod when he saw the sadness behind the mask of his face. He'd worry about losing his job later.

"Miss Chiltern?" Seb called across the waiting room, instantly picking her out from the sea of injured people waiting for their names to be called. "We've found your daughter…"

Julia stood, slipping her phone into her bag, and Seb remarked at how pristine she kept herself and her tailored outfit, mentally comparing her to her child whose clothing looked a few years old and who clearly hadn't slept in a while, but shaking the thought. The poor kid had hurt herself badly, while Julia had clearly been at work all day: there was bound to be a difference in appearance.

"Right this way" He smiled, flirting once more, and nearly tripping over his own feet when she smiled back. Damn she was well put-together. "We can wait outside cubicles, and I'll find out which one she's in."

"Thankyou" she smiled, following him.

"Alright?" Dylan murmured, now the boy's sobs had died down. He was growing increasingly concerned about the lack of effect the pain of his chest was having on him, yet the amount of panic he was showing around the CT.

"Mm I'm sorry" The boy whispered.

"Nonsense… It was probably a bit much having a CT, I'm sure we can carry out the examination in cubicles and have you stitched up soon enough, and then you can be on your way."

The concept of leaving the hospital was exhausting for Ben and he pulled away from the doctor, who helped him lie back down, before calling Max to assist with getting the trolley back to cubicles.

"Cubicle three please" Dylan asked, watching the boy closely. Something certainly seemed off and he kept re-running what little personal information he had against what he'd learnt while in university, but something just didn't add up.

Dylan had transferred Ben into a cubicle and was nearly done stitching his wounds when a woman all but fell into the cubicle, relief falling flat across her face when she saw him.

"Adrienne honey" She cooed walking to the bed, ignoring the paling of her child's face. "What happened to you sweetie?"

"Seb – _who_ is this?"

"Adrienne's mother. When you asked her what her name was, I overheard and went to get her mother. She's been very worried."

Dylan looked down at Ben and back at his mother and it clicked. It had been obvious all along what with them both being pale with dark curls, albeit his mother having slightly neater curls than him. Still the expression on the boy's face wasn't quite right.

Suddenly, Dylan's instincts crept in. The sudden pallor of Ben's face made sense now; or at least, he hoped it did.

"Okay, well it's not very helpful having her here now when I'm trying to stitch, so excuse me, but there's a coffee shop across the ward, Dr Grayling can show you where it is." His voice was clipped, though he tried to restrain from letting on what he thought he knew.

"Here, come with me" Seb offered.

"No thank you. I'd rather stay with my daughter; I'm not hurting anyone."

"Very well" Dylan replied, "Seb, can I have a word outside please?" Seb nodded and left the cubicle while Dylan tied off the last stitch. "I won't be long" Dylan reassured Ben, before peeling off his gloves and placing them in the bin beneath the bed.

"What was that all about?" Seb asked, as Dylan strode over to the counter at the centre of reception.

"I have reason to expect something isn't quite right between Ben and his mum" Came the reply as Dylan placed the clipboard down. "Noel, can we have some parental overnight stay forms, a medication and allergy form and a parental consent for care form please?"

"Do you really need all those?" Seb asked, "And what do you mean not right?"

"Did you even stop to look past that woman's bust to our patient's face?" Dylan snapped, annoyance seeping through his voice.

"Well no. What bust? I was looking at the patient results!"

"Well Ben looked quite off to me, and I'd like to buy us some time alone to see if he's alright."

"Wait who is Ben?!"

"Our patient!" Dylan roared, before quietening his voice and looking down, "He's transgender, but I don't think his mother is aware. If you could do me the favour of finding Rita, I'd appreciate it. And then maybe you should stick to cubicles, before you put another patient's life in danger."

"She's hardly in danger" Seb scoffed, "And transgender is just another term for attention-seeking, so I'll call her by her correct pronouns if that's okay with you."

"Good. Find Rita. And remember Ben's correct pronouns are his and he."

Seb strode off, telling Rita to go to Dylan on his way.

Dylan nodded at Rita who made her way across the ward to hi. "What's up?" she asked, clocking the expression on his face and his stance to support it.

"Has Ben said anything to you?"

"Ben?"

"Oh my god" Dylan sighed, "Adrienne or something. He's transman?"

"Oh okay Ben, yeah um he asked if I helped people and would I believe him if he told me something, but he didn't get that far because Max came to take him to CT…" she trailed off "Why? What are you saying?"

"I'm not sure, but it seems like there's something weird going on between him and his mother…"

"What sort of weird?"

"Come see for yourself… Noel's getting some forms for her to fill out because she seems unlikely to separate herself from him at this current point… We need to get Ben on his own I think…"

"Okay, d'you want me to come back to cubicles with you for now?"

"That'd be good yeah thanks" Dylan nodded, his expression revealing him still to be deep in thought.


	3. Close Call

"So Adrienne…" Ben's birth name slipped easily off his mother's tongue and he shuffled away from her protectively, a heat rising up his throat to his face. "Oh baby, don't try to get away from me" She moved around his bed to the other side, "We need to talk like grown-ups"

Ben nodded defeatedly, trying to keep eye contact with her, and to hide the shakes of fear that kept coming.

"Now Addie, I hope you haven't been telling porky-pies about yourself… You know you're going to have to stop all this 'I'm a boy' crap sometime?" She pitched her voice condescendingly, making Ben wish a doctor would come back soon. Dr Keogh had _promised_.

"And you most certainly better not have told them about me and Alex" she continued.

Ben turned his head to the emergency button, just a little out of reach, but his movement caught his mother's eyes.

"Don't move again unless you want trouble" she hissed, "Alex and I have already discussed taking your dignity away, why is it that no matter how much we take from you, you still can't behave? You'll never be good enough!" The warning tone in her voice was rising and Ben tried to block it out.

 ** _Dr Keogh will be here soon, Dr Keogh will be here soon, Dr Keogh will be here soon…_**

"Adrienne!" Miss Chiltern snapped, pleased when her child jumped and flinched, a whimper rising in his throat "Stop flinching like I abuse you for God's sake…" she sighed.

"I'm sorry mum" Ben whimpered, trying to stop the tears threatening to escape, he wasn't allowed to cry, it was a bad idea to cry. Why couldn't his body conform to her standards?

"Ah Miss Chiltern" Rita entered cubicle three, followed by Dylan, "I hope we haven't interrupted anything, but it's important we check Adrienne's vitals and you get these forms signed for us please!" Rita smiled at her gesturing out of the cubicle.

"But I want to stay with my daughter!" Julia retorted, the protective mother act back on immediately. It still surprised Ben, even now, that she could switch her personality so quickly without falter.

"Ah yes, we understand that, it's only natural" Rita smiled again, "But we really need you to speak to our head of department, Ms Connie Beauchamp who can talk you through psychology and aftercare. It's all really unavoidable I'm afraid"

Rita wasn't going to let Julia get past her, so she put forward an attitude impossible to be argued with, forcing Julia to follow her.

"Right Ben" Dylan began, drawing the curtain around the bed, "I need to talk to you about relationships with your family please" he didn't sile fully, but his eyes were warm and welcoming and Ben felt his shoulders relax within seconds.

"Here" he held out a roll of paper and Dylan took it, unrolling it before glancing across to Ben once more.

"It's okay to cry Ben" Dylan reassured him, nodding at the tears that sat on the edge of his eyes.

"A-are you?"

"Yes. Absolutely sure" Dylan affirmed, turning his head back to the paper to read it.


	4. The Truth

To whoever's reading this: I trust you. If I didn't, you wouldn't be reading this letter. I need to keep this brief, because if I've given it to you, it means we're running out of time. I've looked up different types of abuse and I don't know if I'm overreacting. She hurts me and her boyfriend does stuff to me that isn't allowed and I don't get a lot of food. I think I'd like help, but I don't know how to say it out loud because I'm scared. I'm sorry for causing trouble.

Ben.


	5. Okay To Be Scared

Dylan rolled the paper back up and looked to where Ben lay, still not letting himself cry.

"I understand" he uttered into the silence. Ben stayed staring at the light strip above him, unmoving and refusing to show any form of emotion.

"How?" he croaked, swallowing back tears still.

"Believe it or not, I think we've had similar childhoods…"

Ben sat up. "Sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for Ben, but I think we should take this to Ms Beauchamp. You're right in suspecting abuse, is there anything you can show me physically?"

"Don't you believe me?"

"I do believe you, physical evidence would aid us further…" Dylan trailed off as Ben turned and lifted his gown over his head, revealing his back and sides to the doctor.

Dylan shut his eyes.

"I know it's disgusting" Ben pulled his gown back down and turned to face Dylan, and Dylan opened his eyes, looking at the young teenage boy.

"Never be disgusted by what it looks like. Looks are looks. Be disgusted by the person who did it to you, and the actions they took out on you. Be disgusted by their mind-set and beliefs in hurting you, but never, ever be disgusted by your physicality. Scars are scars Ben, I promise they aren't disgusting."

Ben looked down. "Sorry for causing so much trouble…"

"I think you'll find it's your mother who caused the trouble here, Ben" Dylan spat the word 'mother' with contempt, before placing an arm around the boy's shoulders to help him up. "Let's get you to Miss Beauchamp" he affirmed, and felt a blanket of pride drop over him when Ben didn't fight back, but simply nodded, pressing some of his weight against Dylan. Dylan didn't mind.

There was already an idea brewing in Dylan's mind as they sat in Ms. Beauchamp's office, Ben on the chair next to Dylan's fidgeting and fiddling with his hands, the anxiety clear in his expression.

Ms. Beauchamp looked up from reading the small roll of paper and sighed sadly. "How long has this been going on for Ben?"

"Since… since I can remember" he whispered.

"We need to call social services and the police as long as his mother is still on site!" Ms. Beauchamp stood and grabbed the phone dialling the number for social services. "Dylan, can you get through to an on-site police officer please? Ben, we need you to stay here…"

Dylan stood, pulling his pager from his back pocket and holding his finger down on the emergency button.

Ben stood and moved over to the door, to avoid the anxious clenching in his throat. He was seeing stars as he took another step backwards, a mixture of hunger and panic getting the back of him. He'd told someone, there was no taking it back. Now he'd be put in care, in the horrible homes his mother spoke of, where everyone was ignored and moved around between "families" without their own lives being taken into consideration.

"Police are on their way here" Dylan uttered softly to Ben who had shrunk down into a corner as Ms. Beauchamp hung up the phone. "Ben dear" He crouched down beside the shaking boy, "I need you to take some deep breaths for me…" He trailed off as the boy's eyes widened at the sound of shouts coming from outside. "Ben it's okay, security will deal with it… Wait here…" Dylan stood and followed Connie out the room to find the source of the commotion.

Ben shook his head. He couldn't panic now, he had to be strong for Dr Keogh; it would be all his fault if he got hurt, if he hadn't told anyone, his mum's voice wouldn't be ringing out across the ED.

Shakily, Ben took to his feet, wiping his palms against the jeans he'd been allowed to change back into. Taking a deep breath, he clicked open the door handle, only to gasp inwardly at the chaos.

His mother was standing by reception, wielding a lighter. Her once neat hair was raked through by her fingers as people ducked while she span.

"Give me back my daughter!" she screamed. Kicking out as a white-haired nurse tried to get closer to her, she sent him crashing back into a pile of boxes, smacking his head on the floor as Ben had many times before when she'd shoved him too hard.

Desperately, Ben scanned the ED looking for Dr Keogh and nearly screamed when he saw how close he was getting to his mother.

Letting out a guttural scream, Dylan jumped at Ben's mother, causing the lighter to be knocked out her hand as she went slamming onto the ground, him landing on top of her.

"Bad move" she spat, kneeing him in-between his legs and spinning him over onto his back with speed. She was a swift package of muscle, disguised by her dainty office clothing. As he went down, Dylan could have sworn he smelt alcohol, but was unsure as he tried to right his vision quickly enough to see Ben sprint across the ED and throw Dylan out of the way.

"You little shit!" Julia hissed, shoving Ben backwards as she stood. She grabbed him by his upper arm and twisted it, grinning as he squealed in pain, whimpering as a fresh bruise blossomed around his left eye. Dylan stood and tore Ben away from his mother, his heart breaking at the pain the boy was in.

"Don't ever touch him again!" he roared pulling Ben backwards towards the sanctuary of the staffroom as the police closed in around Julia.

Ben whimpered, not letting go of Dylan's arm in his panic, desperate for even the smallest sense of security.

"It's okay Ben" Dylan mumbled, directing him towards the sofa.

15 minutes later, Miriam, the social worker, entered the staffroom followed by Connie. Ben was leant up against Dylan, his knees curled into his chest as he dozed gently; he was comforted both by the hoodie David had dropped over his thin frame when he'd found the tow, and by Dylan's hold around his back, carefully keeping him from falling.

Dylan knew what he had to do, as did David. They'd both been through the adoption process together just over a year ago when they got married as they'd agreed it was something they wanted to do.

It didn't take long to sign the forms.

Stepping out of the ED, Dylan turned to face his adopted son, David on the other side of him.

"So" Dylan smiled, "Which papers d'you want signing?"

"Wha…?"

"For your transition."

"My… really?"

"You are you and you'll always be you, Ben. There's no two ways about it, and however you'll be most comfortable is how I want you to be. So whatever papers you need signing, I'll sign them without a second thought."

"Thank you" Lofty looked down, twisting his hands in amongst each other.

"Let's go home you two" David spoke over their shared look, taking his partners hand, who wrapped an arm around Ben's shoulders as they walked in the direction of the port. Ben flinched instinctually, but shrugged it off, leaning into Dylan a little more.

"You ok, my boy?" Dylan asked.

Ben smiled, "Yeah… thank you Dr Keogh…"

"Call me Dylan, and that's David"

"Thank you Dylan"

Dylan smiled and squeezed David's hand as they both watched their adopted son smiling too. It couldn't have gone better.


	6. Red Light

"Ben?" Dylan called to his son of three weeks from the kitchen, before physically making his way through to his son's room, knocking twice.

"Yes?" Ben stood and ran to the door, kicking the shoebox under the bed on his way.

"Are you okay?" Dylan asked, looking into Ben's eyes. "You look…"He trailed off.

"Yeah sorry, I'm making a surprise" Ben smiled to cover his lie, a trick he'd learned from all his years with Julia, though his mother had more often than not, been too drunk to notice.

"Oh okay then, please come and get some breakfast though, you're not looking great…"

"Oh… sorry" Ben whispered, looking down.

"I didn't mean it like that" Dylan reassured him, "You're just still very thin is what I meant"

"Oh…"

"At least try?" Dylan offered, "I know how hard it is" Just the week before, Ben had been to see Will, the clinical psychologist suggested, and Will had been worried that Julia may not have been the only person to starve Ben.

"Sorry Dylan" Ben whispered, following him into the kitchen, his fleece pulled tight around himself.

"There's nothing to apologise for, my boy" Dylan smiled at him, gently ruffling his curls, and Ben smiled back. "You have therapy with Will later, remember?"

"Group session?"

"Yeah"

"Thank you Dylan" Ben smiled again and Dylan pulled him in for a gentle hug, cautious still of where the bruises had been three weeks ago.

"If you ever need me to look at anything for you, I will you know?" Dylan reminded him, his chin resting gently atop his son's curls.

"Promise you won't be disgusted?"

"I will never be disgusted. Promise"

Ben snuggled into Dylan again as the kettle clicked. "Tea's done Dylan" he muttered, and Dylan gave him a final squeeze before stepping across to fill the cups.

"David said he can be out of work at 4 today, so we thought we'd go for a walk or watch a movie or something when you're back from the hospital."

"Could we go back by my old house… please?"

"Of course, but I thought there was nothing you wanted to take?" When they'd first gone to Ben's old house, it had been bare of anything that could have possibly belonged to Ben, save a sleeping bag on the garage floor with a lamp beside it and a toothbrush in the bathroom.

"I know but there's only a week before they clear it, and I want to check around…"

Dylan considered saying no, not wanting to upset his son with any painful memories, but nodded despite himself. If it was important to Ben, he wouldn't refuse; God knew that boy had been through enough.

"Cereal? Or toast?" Dylan offered gently, "You only have to try…"

"Cereal please?"

"Of course" Dylan smiled as Ben poured milk into the two cups carefully before picking them up and placing them down on the table.

"Sorry… I've been here three weeks and I'm still not great conversation…" Ben confessed, running his fingers along the edge of the kitchen counter where Dylan poured some cereal into bowls.

"No no Ben, I love having you around, and you're a very interesting person" Dylan told him, sidestepping around his son and placing the two bowls on the table.

They sat down beside one another.

"Do you like Bambi, Dylan?" Ben asked, concentrating deeply as he took a spoonful of cereal, put it in his mouth, chewed and swallowed. He needed to concentrate, so he could stop being a disappointment.

"I… I' not sure I've ever seen it actually" Dylan admitted, half-smiling at his son, whose eyes sparkled a little.

"Oh my word, can I show you it?"

"Sure, I can pick up a copy while you're with Will today?" Offered Dylan, watching with pride as Ben took another spoonful of cereal and ate it methodically.

"Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course I would – it's something you enjoy, right?"

"Yeah… It was my favourite as a kid…" Ben didn't mention that he watched it right up until a month ago to calm him down, and he didn't mention that he actually hated any films with any type of violence involved.

Ben stepped out of the clinic end of the hospital and into the cool breeze. A man sat in a tuxedo next to a greying lady in a wheelchair, holding her hand across the lawn. She has a tartan blanket hanging loose around her shoulders that reminded Ben of his cat as a child, and a girl of about 7 in a daisy shirt and green dungarees with straight brown hair ran in circles, making a few other patients smile. Ben himself allowed a soft smile to break out across his face at the sound of the girl's laughter – it was soft and lilting, counteracting the dead weight he always seemed to carry in his chest.

Pulling away from his thoughts, he glanced around, spotting Dylan standing across the car park talking to David, car keys dangling from one hand. Why was it whenever Ben was in a bad way he only noticed the tiny details? They were like flies, taunting and scratching away from the bigger picture; that was what had always gotten him into deeper trouble living back at home. Home. It wasn't really ever home though, was it?

"Ben?" Dylan stood in front of him now and he smiled back at him.

"Hi Dylan"

"D'you still want to go back to the old house and check around?"

"Yeah please" There was some sound of ringing urgency in Ben's voice Dylan noticed; he must have left something more important than a copy of Bambi there.

"Okay we'll drive over there and then we can go back home and have tea, and I picked up a copy of Bambi for you to show me."

"Thank you" Lofty uttered gratefully, dipping his head, and David smiled at him, getting in the front seat beside his husband.

The car pulled up outside Ben's old house and he felt a shiver shoot down his spine when he saw Alex's car still parked in the drive, green and dented, but terrifying nonetheless. The windswept bushes scattered across the path held memories of approaching the front door after a day at school, not knowing how drunk his other was going to be. Ben gulped at the air, and David placed a gentle palm on his shoulder.

"You're being really brave Ben" he told him quietly as Dylan shook out the key the social worker had given him. "D'you want me to walk with you to the door?"

"Please" Ben hadn't meant his voice to come out in so much of a whimper as it did, and he swallowed it back down, just focusing on the warm weight of David's palm.

Dylan reached the end of the path and unlocked the heavy oak door with a clunk, pushing it forward.

"Hey" David spoke softly again, "I'm gonna be right next to you, okay?"

Ben nodded as they walked down the path, trying to ignore the memories that arose with every step. "David?" he whimpered, having checked Dylan was inside the house. He paused and David stopped beside him on the path. "Please help me forget…" His voice was a whisper and a sob flipped up his throat, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, "I don't want Dylan to see me like this, please help me" Still Ben's voice came out as a hiss as he bit back tears.

"Here" David replied, loosely enveloping Ben in his arms, "I've got you… I know it's scary, but I promise nothing will hurt you again, as long as I can stop it – and nothing will ever hurt you in that house as long as you live" He pressed a soft kiss against the top of his son's head. "Are you okay to go in?"

Ben nodded, still biting his lip, but stepped out from David's careful embrace, clenching his fists in the biting breeze. David walked alongside him the rest of the way down the path.

"I'm proud of you" he whispered just as they reached the threshold.

"Thankyou…" Ben trailed off. He'd nearly called David 'Dad' by accident… It would have been by accident though wouldn't it? He tried his best to reassure the jumping butterflies in his stomach as he stepped into the familiar darkened corridor past the door.

"What on earth was wrong with Julia?" Dylan muttered as he and David stood in the sitting room of Ben's old house together, waiting for him to finish scouting around.

"I have no idea" David replied, shaking his head at the troubled notions, "I don't understand how anyone could do that to their child…"

"It scares me to think what would have happened, had we not found out"

"And me…"

Ben listened through the paper-thin walls from his room across the corridor. Well, the garage, but it had technically counted as his room. Three weeks ago, they'd come to the house and he'd smuggled his shoebox into his overnight bag given to him by the hospital, but something had been missing and he had to find it, while hoping and praying that his mother hadn't found it first.

Feeling around the edges of his grotty sleeping bag and pillow case, he jumped as he felt something flutter against his hand. _There_. A sigh of relief barrelled through his chest and his vision went fuzzy for a moment. It was only then he realised a draft beating over his back and he turned…to face a broken window.

That window hadn't been broken before. A hot wave of panic rose in his chest as he stood, shoving the note into his pocket – he span on his heel, watching intently for anything else unusual… and then he saw it.

A video camera. Red light blinking.

Adrenaline coursed through Ben's body, sending him running, not bothering to retrieve the camera from the garage and into the sitting room where Dylan and David stood in a deep, silent embrace.

"Dylan, David! Please, w-we gotta get out p-please" Ben spluttered, tears pouring down his face, "Please, I can't come back here please, please…" His words trailed off as he pleaded with them, tears rushing down his face.

"It's okay Ben" David announced, helping his partner escort their son from the house, down the corridor and into the fresh air as quickly as possible.

"It's okay, it's okay" he continued to mutter, helping him into the back seat of the car, and taking the seat beside him as Dylan ran up the path to the car, assuming Ben had had a panic attack and wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

They pulled away from the curb, David holding the trembling, tearful boy and Dylan desperate to get back to the boat and away from the source of panic.

"S-sorry… I won't m-make you take me back again" Ben sobbed into David's shoulder, breaths overlapping one another and hands shaking, wet with sweat.

"It's okay" David simply continued to reassure him, "Don't apologise, it's okay…"

Once they reached the boat, Ben's breathing was restored to usual, yet he still hiccupped, tears staining his cheeks and face tainted red.

"I got you…" David offered, helping his son out from the car. In all their panic, none of them had realised a certain bashed-up green car following theirs. It pulled back away from the harbour and continued down the road, still remaining unnoticed.

Ben sat in the sitting room, not wanting to keep Dylan and David from his sight as long as he still felt uneasy – he couldn't tell them the reason for his panic at his old house for fear of endangering them all, yet he was still empowered enough to protect them. Sure, he'd only known them three weeks, yet somehow they mattered more to him than anyone else in the world, well, apart from one person…

 _Lofty,_

 _These are for you… I know the big dream is to be a dancer, how could I forget? It has been since you were four. I hope these help you through everything, and I hope you know how much I love you. You're my perfect boyfriend – please don't forget me._

 _Happy Birthday darling, and stay safe. I know you haven't had a birthday present before…_

 _Love Maxie xx_

It was 11pm, and Dylan was on a night shift, David in the kitchen reading through some papers. Lofty went back through to his bedroom and pulled the shoebox from beneath his bed once more. The satin ribbon was soft and he ran his index finger across it, before deftly removing it and opening the box. A pair of ballet shoes, chalked at the point lay nestled between the layers of tissue paper and Lofty sustained a sob as he reached out, stroking the supple material.

This was the one secret he'd kept from both Alex and Julia.

He tucked the scrap of paper beneath them and gave the soft material a final loving stroke, before placing the lid back on with careful precision and re-tying the ribbon.

Surely he was safe to be who he was here, yet he wasn't entirely sure. Still, if living with his mother had taught him anything, it was how to keep secrets…


	7. The Call

It was 4am. Lofty picked the mobile Dylan had given him up from the side of his bed, gently pushing in the little button on the side. The screen lit up and he swiped it across, keying in the passcode and turning down the brightness to preserve his eyesight. He sighed, tapping the contacts icon and scrolling.

Dylan.

David.

Max.

His thumb hovered over Max's photo, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to press down. Just as he was about to, he swiped left again, removing the contacts page from the screen. Instinctively, he checked the doorway in case someone was outside waiting, but there was nobody there. Flopping back down on his bed, he pulled the curtains open to look across the water half-heartedly, and opened YouTube.

While they'd lived on the same road, they'd made videos together. Lofty tapped the screen a few times and, sure enough, the countless videos appeared, listed across the screen. He scrolled, searching for the right one as Dervla shuffled up the bed, covering him with her warm weight.

Finding the right video, he tapped the title and began to watch, volume low enough so as not to wake Dylan and David.

 ** _"_** ** _Come here chicken-leg" Max laughed, lifting his boyfriend and swooping him around before pecking his nose._**

 ** _Lofty glowed with happiness._**

 ** _"_** ** _Max you absolute dork!"_**

 ** _Max placed him back down – they were stood on Brighton pier, Max holding his phone at an angle in order to capture them both in the frame, and Lofty's hair was windswept, his camera dangling jauntily around his neck._**

His camera. Lofty sighed at the memory of his old camera, memory filled with photos of him and Max, the pier, all the places he'd been happy and fear-free. Upon finding his camera, his mother had of course thrown it to the floor, removing the memory and smashing the lens and body of it to pieces. Lofty remembered the way he'd bitten his cheek and held back the tears, staying silent. Emotionally dead.

 ** _They sat on the edge of the pier, legs dangling over the pebbly beach beneath, watching the surfers. Max's olive beanie was balanced precariously on his head and his laugh lilted as Lofty snatched it from his head, joke-threatening to drop it onto the beach below. Max made a swipe and Lofty couldn't help but grin at the sound of Max's giggles, creases developing in the corners of his eyes._**

Lofty sighed at the warm weight on his chest, running his spare hand through the fur between the greyhound's scraggly coat. "I miss him Dervla" he whispered. A warm tear slipped down the side of his face and he smiled despite it.

Dervla whined and butted Lofty's hand in response, her tongue delicately wiping the tear from Lofty's chin. "Maybe I should just call him…" Dervla looked up at him sleepily; sensing his mixed emotions and not knowing how to react, she butted his hand again and he continued to pet her gently.

"Yeah okay" He smiled down at her, "I'll call him in the morning…" Lofty placed his phone back down on his bedside table and dropped his head back down into his pillow, waiting for Dervla to rest her own against his chest. It can't have been comfortable for her, but he was grateful she lay there with him anyway. Tensing and relaxing his muscles in sequence, he succumbed to sleep.

At 11am, Lofty still hadn't appeared from his room, and Dylan went through and knocked gently on his door. _He must've overslept,_ he thought, _no wonder what with all the work at college and his GP appointments and therapy._ Dylan knocked again and was greeted with a grunt from beneath the duvet as he entered.

"Ben, you okay?"

"Hmmf"

Dylan approached Ben's bed and sat down slowly on the end, running a hand through Dervla's fur before she shot up and jumped through the now-open door, clearly desperate to get outdoors.

"Wanna tell me what's kept you in bed so long?" Dylan traced the subject gently and Ben rolled over onto his back, lifting his arms above the duvet, his veins standing out slightly.

There was a lengthy silence and Dylan was about to change the subject to try and get his son out of bed, but then Lofty broke it. He was so quiet, Dylan almost missed it.

"Can you keep a secret?"

Dylan nodded, wrapping his little finger loosely around Lofty's, draped across the top of the duvet, and earning himself a soft smile from the boy.

"There's a shoebox under my bed."

"Okay?"

"Look in it?" Lofty's words were of a demanding nature, but his tone of a pleading one, and Dylan knew it was important to him. Dylan was careful in removing the ribbon and peeling back the whispering sheets of tissue paper.

"Oh…" He finished reading the note that lay alongside the shoes. "Is he…" Dylan trailed off, "Is he dead?"

"No, oh my word" Lofty couldn't help but see the funny side to how sad he really must look. "We just…moved. We moved house two months ago when Mum moved in with her boyfriend and I deleted my number from his phone and I want to call him, but I don't know if he's moved on. We moved a day before my birthday…" The words spilled from Lofty's mouth, pattern completely different to before.

"Why'd you delete the number?" Dylan asked softly, running his hand along the duvet and gently stroking Ben's fingers.

"I couldn't let mum know about him… I hid the box with the other stuff and moved it every day, I didn't have my own phone, but I remembered his number by heart… I miss him Dylan"

"You can still call him you know?" Dylan's voice was still quiet and still soft, "He seems really special…"

"He is" Lofty sighed, "I promised Dervla I'd call him today…"

"You can't break a promise to your dog surely?" Dylan joked, but caught his tone of voice when he clocked the look on his son's face.

"I'll do it after…"

"Breakfast?"

"Is that okay?"

"Of course it is my boy" Dylan smiled down at him and Lofty sat up, pulling his hand from Dylan's to run through his curls. He groaned.

"Don' wanna get upppp" he pouted, placing his hands sleepily on his hips, a sparkle cracking through his eyes.

"Tough" Dylan joked back, taking his hands and helping him out of bed. "Now, my prince, cereal or toast? Or… pancakes?"

"Pancakes? I've never…"

"Pancakes it is then, sire" Dylan interjected already guessing what he was about to say, and mock bowed and Lofty creased up through his drowsiness.

"Da-Dylan stop" he laughed, mockingly batting him away.

"Ten minutes?"

"Sure" Lofty sat back down on his bed rubbing sleep from his eyes and shaking his head.

"Twenty minutes? You look like you could use a shower to wake you up a little…"

"Oh okay…" Lofty went quiet for a moment; he could feel his heart roaring in his ears, as he stood shakily.

"Ben? Are you okay?"

"P-please let me lock the door in the sh-shower…"

"Of course… are you okay?"

"I-I don't want you coming in the bathroom!" Lofty's voice was raised a little, though he didn't mean it to be and he tried to lower the volume.

It was then Dylan realised Lofty had only ever showered when him and David were both on shifts before then.

"Ben… If there's anything you need to tell me…"

"Keeping secrets?" Lofty whispered, dipping his head further so his fringe shielded his eyes. He didn't want to look at Dylan; he knew he was too disgusting.

"Of course…" Dylan tried to hide his fear at what he suspected his son was going to say.

"I don't want you seeing me not as a physical boy" Lofty shrugged. He couldn't tell Dylan the reason.

"I'm never going to see you naked, no matter your physicality" Dylan told him, "It worries me you think I would…"

Lofty paled. He thought he'd brushed him off, but apparently not.

"I'm gonna go shower" he muttered, "Sorry for being silly…"

"You weren't" Dylan replied, retreating from his son's room, "I'm always here to talk"

"I know, thank you" Lofty smiled nervously back at him, and the presence of that smile relaxed Dylan a little.

"Okay pancakes in twenty" Dylan smiled, making his way to the kitchen where David sat at the table, reading his newspaper.

Lofty peeled his clothes away from his body and double-checked the door was locked before hopping into the shower and turning the water on. The steamy water still surprised him since he'd only ever had cold before. He'd tried a cold shower the first time he arrived and ended up… no.

He sluiced the water across the bruises on his arms and took a deep breath as he prepared to clean the more "feminine" parts of his body, trying not to gag as he rushed.

Finally, he clambered from the shower and towelled himself off, yanking on his jeans, polo and a hoodie.

The day after he'd moved in with Dylan and David, they'd taken him shopping for clothes and things in general that most boys his age apparently had. Like the phone.

He thought back to the way he'd stared at the clothes, not fetched from a clothes bin at the recycling centre, but lined up neatly on shelves and rails. He'd stood in awe, not daring to touch anything. Dylan had chosen him a few pairs of jeans and David some t-shirts when he refused to ask for anything, but had eventually admitted to liking the soft blue hoodie and the llama-patterned pyjamas. Dylan and David had also bought him clean underwear and socks, a raincoat, some books and two pairs of shoes – more than Ben had ever owned in his life.

Now, he rubbed the towel vigorously through his curls, uncaring when he bumped the bruises – he'd probably taken far too long in the shower.

He rushed out the bathroom, hanging the towel hurriedly, yet neatly behind him, and into the kitchen.

"Morning Ben" David looked over his newspaper and placed it on the table in front of him.

"Good morning" Lofty smiled at him and helped Dylan carry the plates with the food Lofty had only ever seen on TV across to the table.

"You didn't get the chance to show us Bambi last night – would you like to tonight?" David asked, sincerity in his voice: he had to admit, they'd both felt guilty after Ben had gone to bed claiming tiredness.

"Really?"

"Of course"

"I just-I thought you weren't interested…"

"We are interested, you said you were tired and we weren't surprised after what happened yesterday evening"

"I think I just had a bad day yesterday, I'd like to call Max later if that's okay?"

"Max?"

Lofty explained like he had done to Dylan about his boyfriend, now twenty-odd miles away from where he lived, and both his Dad's agreed he could call him afterwards.

When Lofty left for his room to call Max, Dylan turned to face David who was drying the dishes as he washed them.

"David I can't help but be worried for him" he explained, his voice low, "He seemed panicky about having a shower, yet shrugged it off…"

"Maybe he really was just worried because he doesn't have male physicality yet?"

"Do you think we should be trying to get things to move faster?"

"Dylan, you're doing more than enough as it is. That first night, you got no sleep whatsoever for phoning hospitals and Trans clinics, while also checking on him every ½ hour because you refused to wake me remember?" David chuckled lightly at the memory of his sleepy partner the next morning, rings around his eyes, yet still awake, reading through the online forum for the best advice group he'd managed to find.

"You're right honey" he pecked his husband on the lips, before swatting him jokingly with a spare tea towel, "Next time, it's your job" he laughed too and Lofty smiled in the next room at the sound of his father's laughter.

The dial tone buzzed four times.

 _"_ _Hello?"_


	8. Take Your Time

Lofty grinned at his dad's as he made his way into the sitting room. "So… Can I go to Brighton in three weeks?"

"You owe me £5" David laughed, rubbing his fingers at Dylan.

"What?" Lofty asked.

"David childishly bet me Max wouldn't have lost interest, though I agreed with him" Dylan sighed, jokingly shaking his head and handed a fiver across to David, "I don't mind, what's mine is yours" He smiled at his husband lovingly, before they both turned to face their son.

"Of course you can" David smiled, "Would you like one of us to come with you, or are you a big boy?"

"Big boy" Lofty replied in a little-kid's voice, laughing.

"So" Dylan gestured to the sofa beside David, "How did you two meet?"

The three of them sat and spoke for hours about Lofty's boyfriend, the hospital, and finally reached the topic of transitioning. They hadn't really discussed it in depth as a three before, and Lofty was almost nervous to do so, though he'd been wanting to for a while.

"I'm nervous" He admitted, curling his hands around the mug of hot chocolate David had brought through for him, "What if something goes wrong on the operating table, or it doesn't work with my chest and I'm left with an uneven chest? I've seen lots of articles and videos about it going wrong-"

"Ben" David interjected, allowing Lofty to take a long sip of his drink, "Dylan and I were talking last night and… would it make you more comfortable if we were to operate?"

"Wait can you really?" Lofty trailed off.

Dylan nodded, "There's a lot of paperwork involved anyway, but yeah we can. You'd need to sign a few extra forms to confirm and agree, but otherwise yeah, we can."

"Oh my word thank you!" Ben placed his cup down on the table in front of him and threw his arms around Dylan's neck, not realising as he accidentally made him slosh some tea down the front of his own shirt. Dylan winced and bore it, not wanting to have Ben apologise to him for the next week. David smiled at him, half supportively, half trying not to laugh at the expression on his husband's face as he winced into the hug.

"We want the best for you Ben" he told him, hugging back and then gently pulling away to place his cup down. "You'd need to be okay with us seeing your "female"" Dylan made quotation marks in the air, "-body though, on the operating table of course, or you'd need a surgeon you hadn't met before.

"Sure!" Lofty couldn't stop grinning as he sat back down and hugged David in turn, who was smart enough to place his cup down first. "You guys…" he choked up slightly, "You guys are the best"

"No Ben, that's you" David whispered into his ear, and Lofty pulled him closer as Dylan watched, smiling and wiping tea from the arm of the chair.

Two weeks later, the three of them sat around the table in the kitchen, working through folders of paperwork and talking softly as they concentrated. Lofty put down his pen. David and Dylan looked up at him simultaneously.

"I-I don't think…"

"What is it Ben?" Dylan asked, also placing his pen down, while David stuck his in his hair, behind his glasses.

"Is it okay to wait?"

"Of course it is, why?"

"I just…"

"You can tell us Ben"

"I don't think I'm ready yet" He muttered under his breath, running his hands through his curls and shutting his eyes. Before either of his Dad's had the chance to reply, a loud beeping sound came from David's pocket and he shoved his glasses back up onto his head, knocking the pen to the floor.

"Oh God! I forgot I'm on-call tonight!" David stood and ran to the front door, calling his good-byes as he grabbed his coat and slammed the door behind him.

The sudden movement and noise was too much for Lofty and he felt his palms begin to sweat with the fear of the truth. He stood suddenly, backing away from Dylan and through the second door into the sitting room, palms outstretched in front of him in defence.

"Ben? I promise I'm not going to hurt you…" Dylan kept his voice stable, and held his palms spread wide to show his son he wasn't going to hurt him.

"I don't…" Lofty choked, bumping into the sofa, yet his eyes were trained directly into Dylan's – or perhaps through, Dylan thought; He seemed as though he didn't know where he was. "I don't want…"

"You know you can tell me anything, love" Dylan pushed, wincing as his son tensed; he didn't ever want his son to have to feel pain.

"I-it's" Lofty took a breath, and Dylan stepped backwards a little to allow his son some space, "I d-don't want you and David to see the m-marks" with those final nine words, Lofty broke down, falling forwards, his breaths sharp.

"I've got you my boy" Dylan stumbled over his words as his son fell against him, sobs wracking his body.

"I can't Dylan. I can't keep this up; a-all this sh-shitty pretending a-all the ti-me" Lofty choked and coughed, tears pouring down his face as he gripped his father's shirt, knuckles turning white in anguish and pain.

Dylan gently dropped to his knees, pulling Lofty down with him, and cradling his head, pressing a gentle kiss into his son's curls. "It's okay, it's okay" he whispered, rubbing small circles on his back soothingly.

"I-it's not" Lofty sobbed, pressing his face into the crook of Dylan's neck, but not loosening his grip on his shirt. "Wh-why was it okay for her to do that to me?"

"It wasn't okay. It was never okay for her - or anyone - to hurt you. Especially not in the way she did."

"B-but why did she do it i-if it wasn't okay?"

Dylan held Lofty closer than before, gently bringing two fingers to his neck to count the pulse of the trembling, panicking boy. "I don't know Ben darling, but I-I can promise she'll never lay another finger on you again."

Lofty gasped inwardly and gagged, and Dylan swallowed, hauling the trembling boy to his feet and manoeuvring him quickly in the direction of the bathroom, speeding as he retched again. "Here. Kneel" Dylan pressed down on his son's shoulders gently, so his head was in line with the toilet bowl, and pulled back his fringe as Lofty vomited. "You're okay" Dylan whispered, wiping his son's forehead with a cool flannel. "You just panicked, you're okay…"

"'M sorry" Lofty whimpered, scrambling desperately back against the wall, his face pale. "I'm so sorry".

"Ben darling, breathe"

"S-so-"

"Don't apologise Ben, never apologise for panicking"

Lofty nodded silently, his head nodding forwards against his legs, knees up against his chest.

"I however" Dylan began, "Should apologise for pulling you like that. I promise I'll never grab your shirt again"

"It's okay Dad…" Lofty mumbled, his eyes blinking shut.

"Wait...what?"

"I'm sorry" Lofty looked down, clenching his fists, his eyes wide open now, "I thought it was okay for me to call you that?!"

"Of course it is Ben love, I've been waiting for you to call me Dad since the day I adopted you…"

"Why didn't you tell me to?"

"Because" Dylan sat up against the wall, beside Lofty and put his arm around the huddled boy, "I'm never going to rush you into anything - especially not trust. Trust doesn't appear, it grows"

Lofty's head nodded with exhaustion again and Dylan helped him to his feet, guiding him down the hallway and back into the lounge. Seating his son on the sofa, Dylan got back up and peeled the plastic off the Bambi disc, placing it into the player, and sitting back down beside him again, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as Lofty curled into him, resting his head on his chest.

"Thank you Dad…"

"I love you Ben" Dylan muttered, pulling his son closer. Ben listened to Dylan's heartbeat, and Dylan felt his son's body slacken against him slightly, "Get some rest darling"

"I love you too Dad" Ben allowed himself to slip heavily into sleep, as Dylan held him close, soothed by the pattern of his breathing, only leaving his son to rest on the sofa alone when the videotape clicked out of the player. He turned and placed a heavy blanket over Lofty's body, deciding it would be okay to leave him on the sofa for the night, though he left the fairy lights Lofty had _insisted_ on still glowing around the fireplace, as he headed off to his own room, leaving his door cracked open slightly, just in case Ben called out in the night.

When he reached his own room, he remembered his laptop left abandoned in the kitchen and went to switch it off, glancing at the clock. 2am. Will was doing an emergency therapy nightshift at the hospital tonight, and he should be on his break by now. His phone lay on the surface across from the table.

It only took a few seconds for Dylan to decide what to do.

Dylan: Will?

Will: You ok?

Dylan: Ben says surgery is all-go… Can you book him into theater on your next break?

Will: Sure! Tell him I'm proud, and he's gonna rock it!

Dylan: Will do. Thanks xx

Will: Np. Break over now. Get some sleep. Work tomorrow xx

Dylan shook his head fondly at the last message and watched as the screen faded to black, before putting his phone on charge and heading back to his room, checking on Lofty on the way. He lay peacefully, Dervla at his feet, guarding him.

"Goodnight Ben" Dylan whispered into the silence.

He only paused for thought when he got to his own room, looking at David's pyjamas folded neatly on top of the pillow on his side of the bed. David may never forgive him for what he'd just done… And Ben may never either – Just, what if the best thing to do all along was to rush into it? Get it over with and he won't have to think about it anymore, Dylan thought, though he knew deep down it was wrong.

He slept fitfully that night.


	9. Sorry

Lofty stretched out, his back clicking, and pushed the blanket away from him a little as he reached out to grab his phone. He vaguely remembered it vibrating at some point near dawn, but had ignored it. Now though, he keyed in his password, but stopped for a moment when he saw a little number "1" hovering above the email icon.

He never got emails. Unless it was junk mail of course, in which case, good luck to whoever was trying to sell him double-glazing now. Despite that imagery, he couldn't quite push the nervous twisting in his stomach down, and he glanced up at the time. _10am._

Finally, the email app loaded up and Lofty looked back down at his phone, rubbing sleep from the corners of his eyes and yawning; there was one email in his inbox and it was from… Holby City Hospital.

Dylan sat up in bed suddenly, head thumping. He couldn't quite wrap his head around what he'd done the night before, and he had work in an hour. Until then, if he could distract Lofty from his email, he'd have time to delete the slot in theatre and it would be like nothing had ever happened.

He tried to reassure himself of the new plan as he dropped his feet over the edge of the bed and placed them deep in the shag rug between the wall and his bed.

Anger was all Lofty could feel: it was burning in his chest and boiling the tears that he trapped frozen in his throat. His body quaked and his palms sweated, but this felt different to ordinary panic – this felt like his mother killing his hamster, it felt like leaving Max when they'd sworn to live next door to one another until they were 18.

It felt like betrayal and he didn't even try to hold himself back as he threw his phone at the mirror above the mantelpiece where the fairy lights still sparkled.

"Pathetic!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, watching the crack as it crept down the shiny surface as a cause of his phone. _Those fucking fairylights_ , he fumed as a hand reached out, grabbing the heated strands and tearing them from around the cracked mirror, before grabbing his phone from where it lay amidst the broken splinters of glass.

"Dylan!" Ben couldn't stop screaming and roaring in anger, but fell deadly silent as his father appeared, hair messy and pyjamas hanging awkwardly from his frame. "Dylan…"

"I'm so sorry Ben…"

"No you aren't" Lofty whispered in response, "If you were sorry…" He didn't know how to finish his sentence. There were so many things Dylan could have done differently, but the upset and anger ricocheting through Lofty's veins was too strong for him to word how he felt.

"Ben…" Dylan's voice was soft.

"Please just leave me alone" Lofty whispered in response, clenching his fists absentmindedly, despite the glittering flecks of glass embedded in his palm like grit-marks.

"I-I"

"Don't." Lofty's voice was a firm whisper and he stood stock still in the midst of the wreckage, where he waited until his father eventually made his way back to his room to get ready for work.

Dylan tried to ignore the guilt

His heart dropped, breaking all thought as he heard the bang of the front door and he yanked his trousers on, ignoring his pyjama shirt still half-buttoned around his stomach as he followed his son out. He only paused for a moment as he passed the door to the sitting room, revealing shattered crumbs of glass and burnt fairylights still decorating the carpet. _David and him would have their work cut out getting the glass from the carpet that evening_ , he thought.

He had to run and find Ben before something bad happened to him; his legs shook as he too fled from the boat, adrenaline fuelling him into forgetting his appearance.

Tearstained and aching, Lofty emerged from the bathroom. His anger hadn't lasted, and now an overwhelming wave of lost trust drowned and backwashed over him – it only took a slam of a door to drain the last ounce of rage from his blood and now he wanted a hug and for someone to tell him it'd all be okay.

Softly, he knocked on Dylan's bedroom door, more than ready to apologise, and opened it slightly, wincing as it creaked loudly – he wasn't used to the amount of noise he'd made earlier.

His dad wasn't there.


	10. Home Alone

**Trigger warnings: forced drug-taking, implied intention of rape**

A boxy green car with a dented left hand side, a result of reckless driving, turned the corner somewhat quietly for such an old car. It slowed as it approached the water, slipping silently along the road. A man in a white shirt and black pressed trousers walked straight towards it on the opposite pavement and the driver fought temptation to swerve across and onto the pavement, but he knew it would make him late for a very important date. At least the coast was clear.

Dylan's breath came quickly as he continued to pace along towards the park where he and Ben had walked Dervla most days since his adoption, save the days when Lofty just couldn't seem to get out of bed or move at all, when his mood had been so low he described it as a "flat line". Dylan winced at the thought of his son having kept it secret from his mother for so long, who for one wouldn't ever allow him a day away from school, even when he was vomiting.

He glanced down at his watch and stopped. He thought back to the conversation between himself and Will the night before; he had work in twenty minutes, but he still didn't know where Ben had gone – he had no choice. Dialling the number, he stood tapping his foot in frustration until, finally, after the sixth ring, Ben answered, voice quiet and clouded with sadness.

"Sorry Dad…" He sounded distant, Dylan thought and then it hit home how extreme what he'd done was. Ben was right before, it was all very well Dylan saying sorry, but he hadn't really been sorry, had he? He hadn't cared; he'd been selfish and angry and made a big mistake.

"Ben… Don't be. I can fix this okay?"

"Why did you do it Dad?"

"I thought…" Dylan swallowed, "I thought it might help you if we just got it out the way"

"I told you, I specifically told you no Dad. I said no."

"Where are you?"

"At home"

"Oh"

"Stop ignoring the problem. Why did you do it when I told you no? You shouldn't have done that!"

"I know" Guilt laced Dylan's voice, "There's no excuse for what I did, I'm sorry…"

"Yeah"

"I'll cancel the slot once I get in."

"Thanks" Lofty replied flatly, "Have a good day Dad" He hung up and Dylan breathed out, pocketing his phone, maybe that had gone better than he thought it had? Ben hadn't shouted at him or told him he hated him. He took a deep breath and continued the walk to the hospital, speeding up now so as he wasn't late.

Lofty placed his phone on the kitchen counter and let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. The tension shook in his muscles and he dropped his head down to his outstretched palms, letting out a small whimper into them. His body slackened slightly. Why couldn't he just have the surgery? It frustrated him that it'd been all he'd wanted, yet now it was allowed, he couldn't just do it. Subconsciously, Lofty pushed a hand up his shirt and under his sports bra, feeling the scars he'd left just over a month ago. He'd wanted it then, and he wanted it now, he just _couldn't_.

A sob rose up his throat, so loud he didn't hear the footsteps entering the kitchen until they were on top of him.

All the air was knocked from Lofty's lungs as he hit the floor, pulling the knife block down with him as his reflexes forced him to try and prevent himself from falling. The back of his head cracked sickly against the tiles, but he couldn't feel any pain through it; only focus on the man in the balaclava who straddled his pathetic, struggling body.

"I do _hate_ to make an entrance such as this" The man cooed, "But oh how I missed my girly girl after mummy got put in prison" He drew the end of the word "prison" out, still sounding too sweet, and making Lofty cringe in fear.

"A-Alex?" His voice shook as the man swept the balaclava from his face and smiled down at him, his brown eyes glistening.

"Hey babygirl" he whispered in reply, "I heard you got mummy in trouble"

"Hey Dylan" David skipped across the ED to the staffroom where Dylan trudged across to the microwave with a cold cup of tea. "You okay?" His tone turned serious as he clocked the expression plastered across his husband's face.

"Yup" Dylan sighed, his gaze not quite meeting David's eyes. "When are you off shift?"

"Two more hours… It's been a long'un"

"Hm. Well at least you have the next two days off…"

"Give me some time to bond with Ben, won't it?" David smiled, making his way back to the door, still wielding a folder. "I'll catch up with you later"

"Yeah okay" Dylan forced a smile, before turning back to the now pinging microwave, "Have a good rest-of-shift"

Alex pinned Lofty against the kitchen counter, sneering into his face as he took a pill from his pocket.

"Swallow this!" he hissed menacingly, "Then, we're gonna have some fun…"

"W-what is it?" Lofty wanted to cry, but he knew better than to show his fear like that. He thought he was free from the constant terror, and maybe if he'd not argued with his Dad this morning, he'd be in the staffroom, working over his maths homework while Dylan microwaved endless cups of tea.

"Never you mind what it is" Alex sneered, pushing the pill dry against Lofty's lips, "It'll hurt a whole lot more if you don't take it…"

"N-not p's'n" Lofty mumbled against the cold white mass, his lips forced shut so tightly they turned pale-y purple at the edges.

"I'm not a necrophiliac" Alex scoffed, laughing as Lofty's eyes widened with realisation. "Enough with the foreplay, I'm bored" he snapped, eyes turning from playful to terrifying in seconds. He shoved his knee between Lofty's legs, forcing him to open his mouth as he screamed in pain, before dropping the pill so it fell down Lofty's throat, which swallowed automatically at the presence of the solid.

Lofty panted in fear as his temperature rocketed almost immediately.

"Oh babygirl, I forgot you're underweight" Alex laughed, "Looks like it won't take so long to kick in eh?"

Lofty fell to the floor in anguish, pocketing his phone swiftly as he slid his hand from its grip on the kitchen counter into his pocket deftly, without notice. A small part of him screamed at his own stupidity at not letting go of the surface earlier, as it would've thrown Alex off balance.

"P-please" He gasped, sweating as black spots appeared in his vision, "Tell me… What was it?"

"Just a little spice, girly girl" Alex plucked at Ben's hoodie, licking his lips. "We warned you that you'd lose your dignity should anyone find out…" He revealed a video camera with the red light now green. Lofty's eyes widened. "Where's your dignity gonna go with the entire male population watching you squirm?"

Lofty wished he'd died all those years ago when his mother had pushed him down the stairs.

Dylan leant in to kiss his husband as they parted at the entrance to the ED. David's long shift was finally over, and Dylan hadn't yet told him about what had happened with Ben – He was sure they'd have a long conversation tonight, now he'd cancelled the theater slot, and he knew he was still guilty for his impulsive actions, but for now at least he could enjoy the calmness of kissing his husband goodbye. Suddenly, a Nokia standard ringtone burst loudly from his trouser pocket and he pulled away just before their lips made contact.

"It's Ben?" His tone was questioning as he answered tentatively, wondering if his son was going to demand to be fostered by someone else. What he didn't expect to hear was the slurred sobs of a half-conscious boy.


	11. All that matters

"Benjamin Chiltern, seventeen, GCS and Blood Pressure unknown, pulse 110, transported by car from scene of incident, severe vomiting has been stemmed, suspected rohypnol overdose" Dylan was fuelled by adrenaline as he ran into the ED, his son dangling limply in his arms, shirt stained with vomit. "We suspect a torn oesophagus as an explanation for the blood in his vomit; possible stomach ulcers or tears have been crossed out after stomach massage…"

Seb and Charlie sped over to where Dylan stood, rattling information off the top of his head – they'd never seen him looking worse. His strawberry blonde hair was rucked up and messy, tearstains smattered across his face and eyes bloodshot. "We need resus!" Seb shouted, gesturing across to where Iain and Jez pushed an empty trolley; they ran across the ED floor, and Dylan gently placed his writhing son down on it, not letting go of his hand as they all pushed the trolley through the double doors into resus.

"We're going to have to pump his stomach to get any of the remains of the drug up" Lily announced, replacing Charlie whose pager went off. "Ben, we're going to insert this plastic tubing down your oesophagus in order to prevent any further tearing… Can you blink twice if that's okay please?"

Ben stared groggily into his father's eyes and blinked twice, nodding slightly as tears began to blur his vision. Any mistakes Dylan had made before were long forgotten; Ben had never felt more weak and scared in his life, and he opened his mouth cooperatively as the plastic tubing approached his lips, silently begging for the pain to be relieved. Dylan squeezed his son's hand supportively.

"I promise I'm here" he told him softly as Lofty passed out again.

A long two hours later, Lofty lay, falling in and out of twisted sleep with Dylan beside him, still raking his one hand through his cropped fringe with anxiety. He couldn't believe he'd let this happen, though Ben's story was still unclear as he dropped in and out of consciousness.

Now though, he lay breathing evenly, his hand loose in Dylan's hold, fingers splayed. Dylan took a few deep breaths and dropped his head forward slightly. He'd been moved off shift by Connie, who said he was unfit to work after David had gone back to the boat and driven Lofty to the ED; the panic of the situation would have made him unsuitable for work for the rest of the day.

Dylan felt his head begin to drop forward further and sleep tinted the edges of his vision. He was about to succumb to sleep entirely, when his son let out a piercing cry.

"Ben, Ben it's okay I'm here!" Dylan's eyes snapped open and he watched helplessly as his son's face flooded with tears. Lofty sat bolt upright and pulled his knees into his chest as Lily whipped the curtain back to reveal his panic.

"What on earth is going on Dr Keogh?" she demanded, glaring at him, before gently placing a hand on Ben's shoulder, who flinched away like she'd burnt him.

"I don' wan' it, please don' give it to me, I can be better" Lofty begged, his eyes pleading with Dylan's and then Lily's; his words were sped up as though he were on fast forward as he shook violently.

"I think he's having a flashback!" Dylan cried, "Can you get Rita please, she used to work on an abuse clinic!" Lily nodded and hurried across the ED.

It was then Dylan felt a crushing wave of guilt – he was relying on other people to pull his son from his panic attack, when he himself knew what it was like to go through childhood abuse.

"Ben, Ben you're okay" he muttered softly, moving his hand to his son's back and beginning to rub soft circles, but couldn't keep it up when he felt how violently he was flinching. With that thought, Rita entered the cubicle in a hurry and crouched beside the bed on the opposite side.

"What happened?" She asked softly, addressing Ben, rather than Dylan, who simply took Ben's hand as before, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"A-Alex took… video…" He stuttered, pulling the hospital sheet tighter around himself for security, "I d-didn't wan' it"

"It's okay honey, we know you didn't" Rita told him and Dylan watched in what was almost surprise as Ben nodded back at her and his shoulders slackened considerably.

"D-dad?" He asked, almost as though he were checking Dylan was real, "Can I, can I hug you please?"

"Of course" Dylan smiled at him, taking him carefully into his arms. He smelt sterile, like the hospital, as opposed to the salty smell of the rohypnol that had covered him as Dylan had carried him before, "You're gonna be okay, son" Dylan whispered, "No matter what, I'll always love you"

Lofty just hugged back gratefully, and he knew Dylan knew.

An hour later, Lofty lay watching the ceiling of the ward; he was going to be kept in overnight in case the drug had any other effects on him, though it had worn off now as far as they were aware.

"You have a visitor Ben" Lily announced, drawing the curtain back from the right side of the bed to reveal a boy he hadn't seen in eleven months. Lofty let out a cry of happiness, sitting cautiously so as not to hurt himself.

"Max!" Tears of happiness dripped down his face, and Max trembled as he crossed the small strip of floor to Ben's bed.

"Lofty" He replied, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and holding him close; tears of joy and relief ran down both the boys' faces and Dylan watched in happiness – Max seemed good for his son, they were both so happy and they looked at peace.

"I missed you so mu-"

"Shh it's okay" Max whispered, "I missed you too" Their hold was finally broken by a nurse checking Lofty's blood pressure and pulse, before recording it and leaving them again.

"I'm going to get some coffee" Dylan announced, "I'll leave you two in peace for fifteen minutes."

Lofty noticed, and giggled as Dylan winked at him jokingly. "Da-ad" he joked back smiling, before turning back to face Max. "Max" he whispered, "You're really here…"

"Your… foster dad? Called me and told me what happened… I'm so sorry Lofty…"

Ben swallowed, before looking back up at Max, "It's okay… you're here now" He smiled again, pulling his boyfriend in for another hug, "That's all that matters now…"


	12. Just Like Magic

Ben had made the decision to go in for surgery after the events of the day before, deciding it'd be easier to just do the one hospital trip for the time being, and by midday of the next day, Max was caught up on what had happened since he last saw Ben; now he sat by his bed, mucking around with the tattered bear Ben had been given by another patient.

The young girl had been going into theater that morning and had befriended Lofty just before – Lofty in return for the in-depth conversation on Barbie, had promised to take care of "fluffy" and give her plenty of hugs until the girl woke up again.

"Gimme a hug Bennie" Max smashed the bear into Lofty's face, who pushed it away and took it with both hands.

"Don't do that" He whined, "I feel bad…"

"Yeah, you're right mate…"

"She loves this thing…"

"You'd be such a good brother mate" Max spoke earnestly, "D'you think we should do something for the girl?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, you're the creative one!"

"Yeah, and I'm also the one attached to a trolley by 100 wires who spent the best part of yesterday vomiting."

Max's expression changed to one that bore seriousness, "What happened yesterday?" He asked softly.

Lofty nodded at the curtain, and Max pulled it halfway around to shield them from the rest of the ward. He took a seat on the edge of his boyfriend's bed and Lofty shuffled over, allowing Max to lie across the bed with him.

"Alex" Lofty shuddered at the name, fiddling with the bear's scruffy fur and leaning into his boyfriend, before continuing. "Alex has a recording of me…" Lofty's teeth clenched and he felt sick, "He has a recording and I can't let him keep it…"

"What sort of…" Max read the expression on his boyfriend's face and it was like telepathy. He knew. "Oh… Ben you've gotta tell someone!"

"I _can't_ , he said if anyone finds out, it'll be on porn sites before I can blink!"

"Oh God…"

"Can we just talk about something else? The girl – India, she likes fairies"

"Yeah"

"I'm stuck here, but d'you think you can get some glitter and card or something?"

"How can you think about glitter at a time like this?"

"You asked me what to make for her, and I have an idea" Lofty grabbed Max's arm as he stood. "Max… I'm sorry, I can't think about the video now, I need to forget – it'll be easiest…"

"I understand" Max smiled at his boyfriend, "Pink glitter and card it is!"

"Thank you" Lofty smiled as Max whipped the curtain open and grinned back at him, before ambling out of the ward.

"Ben" Lofty looked up from the angelic shape he was cutting out to see Dylan and David standing beside the bed; he often did that, it almost seemed like a coping mechanism, to shut his thoughts out by getting engrossed in whatever activity it was.

"Dads?"

David smiled at his husband. "Your place is booked for this afternoon, are you ready for this?"

"Yeah" Lofty smiled back at him, he felt genuinely ready to go into theater, and not just to reduce his dysphoria further; maybe if he looked different, Alex wouldn't be able to recognise him as easily?

By the time the girl in the bed next to Lofty's returned, the railing around her cubicle was adorned with glitter-angels of all colours that flitted back and forth slightly in the line of the air conditioning.

Now fully awake, her eyes widened at the sight of them and she clasped her hands, smiling fully.

"They're so pretty!" She gasped, a beam spreading across her face. David smiled at the scene from across the paediatrics ward, where he'd promised to wait with Lofty until he was called into theater.

Seeing the happiness light up the small girl's eyes calmed Ben's nerves for a moment and he passed the scruffy bear to Max, who took it over to her bed.

Lofty could hear Max talking to the girl as he passed her bear back, and he rolled over onto his other side to listen.

"My boyfriend Lofty was asleep, but I saw it all!" Lofty smiled at Max's amazing story-telling voice, "What's their name?" He gestured towards the bear.

"Bliss" The girl whispered, her hair flat over the pillow as she put her thumb in her mouth, now comfortable her bear would come to no harm in Max's careful hold.

"Bliss saw it all too! I'm sure of it! There was this cloud of dust and suddenly" He pointed around the bed rail, "They were all here…"

"Just like magic?" The girl asked sweetly, smiling excitedly around her thumb.

"Exactly magic!" Max tucked the bear under the blanket beside the small girl and ran a gentle hand through her hair. She took his wrist.

"Bliss is magic" The girl whispered, still not letting go. "She saved me… She's so brave!"

"As are you" Max replied softly, turning with a smile, and making his way back to his boyfriend's bed where both Dylan and David now stood.

"The slot in theater is yours now Ben" David told his son, with a soft smile of encouragement.

"I'm ready" Lofty replied, and Dylan and David began to tuck the various wires around the bed and make it ready to wheel down to the ED for final preparations before surgery.

"Ben I'm so sorry…" Max trailed off, "There's something I have to do, and I gotta go…"

"It's okay" Lofty laughed, "Why're you sorry? Not like you're gonna be in theater with me"

Max leant down and kissed his boyfriend. Lofty had missed the taste of Max's mouth against his own and immediately, his shoulders sank down into the mattress, finally relaxed. Though the kiss was fleeting for want of careful watch by Ben's two dads, it calmed Ben, who grabbed Max's hand just as he turned to leave.

"I love you"

"I love you more" Max winked, "You're gonna be great Ben", and with a final squeeze of his hand, Max rushed off the hospital ward, leaving Lofty light-headed with a swooping sensation of love.

"Had enough PDA for today Ben?" Dylan laughed tightly as he and David began to wheel the bed out of the ward. Lofty turned his head to the right a little and waved back to the small girl who smiled at him, lowering her own hand after a few seconds.

He tried hard to relax as a text pinged through onto his phone which lay atop the monitor beside him as they moved. He reached for it tentatively and swiped at the screen a couple of times.

 ** _Max: You're gonna be okay. Just like magic._**

Just as Lofty went to reply, another text came through.

 ** _Max: I love you…_**

Lofty quickly tapped a reply, before turning his phone off and focusing on the passing lights overhead.

"D-dad… I'm scared" Lofty admitted breathlessly, gripping his father's arm and sitting up shakily as David wielded the anaesthetic. They'd reached the ED and the original sense of calm once instilled was replaced by the mental block Lofty couldn't let go of. His fear of losing consciousness.

"I know you are my boy, it's all going to be okay." Dylan held his son close as David attached the drip to the tube sticking out Lofty's hand. "I promise…"

Lofty changed his mind as fast as lightning. He had to commit to surgery sooner or later, and surely getting it over with was the best option he had. "I trust you Da-" Lofty fell heavily against Dylan's chest, who then laid him back down against the hospital bed.

"Can I have a porter please? We need to get this patient into theater!" Dylan called, switching his mind-set to Doctor, and trying to ignore the fact that the patient he was walking alongside was in fact, his adopted son of four weeks.

"Dylan!" David called nervously after him, watching in stunned silence as he turned on his heel, back to face him. "I-I need to switch… Sorry" A sob nearly escaped his throat, but he pushed it back down, just as Dylan walked over, placing a hand gently on the other man's shoulder. "I-I'm too emotionally involved. I can't just control my feelings like you can – I don't know how".

The thought of operating on his son was overbearing for David, and though Dylan hated a change of plan, he knew what was most sensible now.

Dylan rubbed his forehead, and looked into the eyes of the man he loved. "Go." he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on David's forehead, "Go save lives". He looked back at David, as he left shakily, before pacing to reception to order a second consultant to theater.

There was no doubt David would be far more useful on the ED floor than in theater.


	13. Max

Max took a deep breath of the humid air as he stepped out the side entrance of the paediatrics ward, and into the mid-afternoon sun. It grazed across the car park and he took a left, speeding into a jog where the car park met the footpath. Through the ED car park and around to the bus stop, he couldn't help but constantly glance behind to check no one was following him – not that they would be, he'd told them he was going.

For a split-second, he paused. What if he wasn't back in time for the end of his boyfriend's surgery? Who knew how long it might take to do what he was planning. He knew the man's face, but was Ben the more important cause here? He'd been waiting for surgery for nearly ten years now…

Max thought back to their original plans as he finally reached the exit of the hospital car park, leading out onto an unfamiliar a-road. They'd planned to move out together when they were both nineteen, make Max Lofty's next-of-kin; Lofty could have surgery and they could live together, Lofty working as a nurse in a nearby hospital and Max as a reporter in the area.

Now though, things had changed. Lofty was going in for surgery, and Max was running away rather than staying by his side as he'd promised. That thought alone was almost enough to make him go back for him…Almost…

"Scalpel" Dylan announced, not looking up from his son's chest as the blue antibacterial liquid continued to evaporate. "We want minimal soft tissue damage to minimise scarring please"

Seb stared at the boy's chest. He didn't know what to think as he passed the scalpel to Dylan.

The blue liquid was gone entirely now, so Dylan leant down to make the first cut, before pausing, scalpel frozen an inch from the boy's body as he stared at the arm across from him.

"Um… Are you okay?" Seb asked, turning his head to see what Dylan was staring at, and coming face to face with the cuts laddered up Lofty's arm. "Ahh" His voice was strained

Dylan rolled up a sleeve of his long scrubs and put his own arm beside his son's to compare, should the scars be caused by Ben's mother rather than him. He was wrong though, and his worst suspicion confirmed as their scars matched near-identically.

"Fuck Dylan!" Seb gasped, "You need to be _on_ a fucking ward, not working on one!"

"You know nothing!" Dylan's voice echoed around theater, the anaesthetist looking up at the pair of them nervously. "Let's just get on with it" Dylan muttered, subdued. "I'm fine, it was years ago, we'll get a psychiatrist on the ward once Ben's with us again"

Seb nodded, almost nervously, gulping as he looked back at the boy's chest. Dylan went to make the first cut.

"D'you really believe in all this trans stuff?" Seb asked, a serious tone held in his voice.

"It's not a religion Dr Grayling! But if you're asking me if I believe in science, then the answer is yes; anyone who doesn't shouldn't be a doctor" Dylan's voice was sharp and his words clipped.

Seb dipped his head to hide the redness of his face as Dylan made the first incision, concentration flooding out his anger.

Glancing around, Max thought maybe he'd made a mistake coming all this way when Alex was likely long gone by now. And he felt bad not being there for Lofty when they'd planned it so long. Sighing at his childishness, he span on his heel and strode back to the hospital, not sure how long Lofty would be in theater for.

His breaths came faster as he picked up his pace, and he looked up to the sky where grey clouds came gradually into focus – no wonder it was so humid, there was probably a storm brewing… Going after Alex probably wouldn't have been a good idea now anyway.

Upon reaching the ED waiting room, he paused. The most obvious vending machines were in there; he could pick up a packet of crisps and then go through to paediatrics to ask where his boyfriend would be after surgery without the hassle of trying to find food afterwards. Max nodded his head at his thoughts and pushed one earphone in, tapping a playlist on shuffle, before casually loping past reception to where the vending machine stood.

With a single flick of his hair and ping of a coin, a packet of crisps and a bottle of coke dropped into the receiving slot, but as Max crouched down to retrieve them, his heart skipped a beat and the ease was jerked from his grasp. A breath caught in his throat and his blood froze: A man in a faded leather jacket and heavy-duty steel capped boots stood mere metres from him. Instinctively, Max pulled his hood up and shoved the packet into the front pocket of his hoodie.

The man turned and his face was revealed as he stalked back out of the ED.

Although Max only caught a glimpse, the image of a young face, a slight scar gripping the corner of his left eye and jet black hair ruffled up stuck imprinted in his memory.

He had to protect Lofty.

Leaving his change in the slot, Max sprinted from the ED and back out onto the carpark, ignoring the drizzle that blanketed the air, coating him and his clothes in beads of sweat-like rainwater. The temperature was unbearable, but Max kept his head down as he ran around the low-roofed building to the next entrance.

"Can I help you?" A fresh-faced receptionist with blonde hair tugged back tightly addressed him as he approached the paediatrics reception.

"Yeah um…" Max tried to calm his breaths as he grabbed hold of his thoughts in attempt to pin them down. "M-my boyfriend went in for top surgery about forty minutes ago… d'you know where I could find him when he wakes up?"

"Sure! What's his name, pet?"

"Loft- sorry Benjamin Chiltern"

"Ah…" The receptionist's voice trailed off apologetically, "Um his father's already gone through… he can only have one visitor I'm afraid…"

"Oh okay" Max turned, disappointed – of course one of Ben's foster parents would already be in the family room, they were nothing like Ben's birth parents. As he reached the sliding doors, it occurred to him: both Ben's dads were in theater…

"Sorry, one more thing!" Max charged back up to the reception desk, and the receptionist looked up at him again, her smile slightly more strained this time.

"What is it?"

"Can you-can you tell me what his dad looks like please?"

"Um…" she paused in thought, "Black hair, pale, green eyes?"

"Ah. Um I think there's a problem actually" Max's voice grew in determination and he placed his palms down on the desk.

The receptionist sighed, rubbing a hand over her face and shutting her eyes, before looking back up at Max. "And what would that be?"

"Uhm… Ben was adopted a few weeks ago… His Dads are in theater operating on him now…"

"So?"

"So that man you let through wasn't his Dad…"

"Oh." The penny dropped and the change in expression on the reception's face changed so quickly Max wondered if she'd looked ashen the entire time.

"He's abusive" Max could have hit his head against the counter at the sheer level of "obvious" he was conveying by now, but he thought the receptionist had finally understood.

"Oh um… in that case, I'll call security and get another one of us to take you through to the family room?"

"Please" Max could feel the urgency growing inside as Ben grew closer and closer to the end of surgery.

The receptionist (Anne according to her badge) shook slightly as she radioed for security, only gesturing to Max and another receptionist to go through once she'd had a message back – Max felt the relief flood his chest and he nodded at her gratefully.

He didn't know what he was going to find.

"She's going to regret this surgery so much in a few years' time" Seb muttered, shaking his head at where Dylan was removing the tissue from beneath the skin. He paused and looked up at the F1.

"Sorry why would _he_ regret this?"

"Having your chest flattened doesn't automatically make you a boy you know?" Seb spoke slowly and clearly, "She'll always be a she"

"You might believe that, but I'll tell you one thing" Dylan tried to control his temper as it flared, making his blood boil, "Being an F1 doesn't automatically mean you're going to be a good doctor" The tips of his ears glowed red with frustration, and he took a deep breath before continuing, deciding to brush the insults to his son of for the time being.

"I still don't think it's right" came the muttered reply.

"Will you stop being a child Seb?! This is our patient and we need to do what is asked of us and ensure it is done in the most efficient manner – not whinge about what we do and don't agree with!

The nurse looked up from the other side of theater and sniggered slightly as Seb handed Dylan a piece of gauze begrudgingly.

When the receptionist reached the family room, it was empty and so he left Max seated on one of the sofas. Finally, Max was able to relax: the receptionist, Jack, had been good conversation on the way over and security had clearly emptied the room, so now Max could make the most of the last hour before Lofty was put back on the ward.

A hiss broke the silence as Max unscrewed the coke and took a long sip, picking a Spiderman comic up from a table. It was an old one, probably one he'd enjoyed as a child, and it looked as though it'd seen better days. Still it was better than sitting staring at the posters with pink elephants or holding a stuffed giraffe, he decided. Just as he began to settle fully, his attention was snapped back to the room as a figure passed the glass in the door. It was strange it had attracted his attention, but he stood anyway, cracking his back as he did so.

 _That was funny_ , he thought, _he could've sworn… no…_

Still there was no harm in checking-

As he set one foot from the family room, he dropped the comic in surprise, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket again. The anxiety was back; wave after wave crashing against him and playing with his pulse.

 ** _Alex stood at the end of Lofty's bed, where Lofty had been mere moments ago, skyping Max. Lofty had turned the screen on his laptop off, but not the actual webcam. Max stayed silent as a belt cracked down. He wanted to cry out at the sound of his boyfriend's screams, but he knew any sound he made would be picked up on the mic and it would only make things worse. Even ending the call would make too much noise. Lofty cried, promising no one would find out, until Alex was satisfied the pleas weren't fake. He made Max promise the same; Max had stayed up all night, watching Lofty in the night in case he woke up – Lofty had stayed at Max's for three days after…_**

Max shook the images from his mind with a shiver – the man in the corridor had been Alex, he was sure. He had to go on; God knew what sort of harm could come to Lofty if security didn't get to Alex.

It was only when he turned the corner that it clicked: the security guards must've found the room already empty and assumed the man was already gone from the premises – it was even more reason to keep running.

All too soon, Alex was but a few steps in front of him, and Max took his chance and screamed. The sheer volume of his voice drew attention from all the surrounding nurses.

"Security! Please!" Max screamed and, sure enough, Alex began to run, chased closely by Max. He wouldn't let him get away this time, he couldn't allow Lofty to get hurt any more.

Panting he read the signs as he shot past in hot pursuit of the older man. They were heading in the one direction he never wanted to…

"Okay, can I get some suction so I can suture this please?" Dylan asked seriously, his concentration still holding out.

"Sure" Seb had long since given up the argument, desperate to just leave the theater and cool off alone. He dropped the tube when the door to theater crashed open, the hinges banging as two figures ran in, their faces blocked by the flooding light.

Following them, two hefty men in security uniform answered Max's cries.

"Careful!" Max screamed, jumping in front of Dylan. He was silenced on the last syllable as a scalpel was pushed deep into his stomach. His body dropped to the floor with a sickening thud, and a quiet groan echoed, imitating the pain he felt as the room turned dark around him. He fell into a soft mush that he'd thought was the ground when he first ran in.

Meanwhile, security wrestled with the monstrous man in the leather jacket, dragging him from theater.

Lofty's blood pressure began to drop.

"We need to get this sewn!" Dylan shouted, and for the first time, he did something he would never usually want to. "Seb… I know it's risky, but I need you to stop suction and suture the left side, while I do the right."

"B-but what about his blood pressure?" Seb stuttered, taking the second needle.

Dylan paused, unsure of the best option in which to save his son. He tried not to be distracted as Iain and Ethan from the ED strapped Max to a stretcher, having been called by security.

"We…" He trailed off as he wracked his brain for an idea, anything.

The monitor began to beep as Lofty's blood pressure dropped further, and Seb took control. Urgency flooded his voice as he spoke quickly, trying to freeze the shaking of his hands. "We need to get this sewn, and we can do blood transfusions if needs be" He instructed. The importance of the situation was too high; he'd take the after effects once it was all over, and then: he was never becoming a surgeon.

"Okay, agreed" Dylan failed to smile in his panic, but began to niftily sew the incision on the right side of the boy's chest. They released a simultaneous sigh of relief once the machine stopped beeping and they could page a porter.

"Um… good job in there today" Dylan told Seb as they began to scrub their hands and arms, "I-it was very assertive of you…"

"Thank you, but I was out of hand for the first half"

Lofty winced as he felt a pounding pain in his head. Everything was faded and blurry. A light shone in his eyes and he blinked a few times, mouth dry.

"Mwah?"

"Here, try and take a sip…" Dylan spoke softly, offering a plastic beaker of water, and wet Lofty's lips with it slightly. David came around his other side as Lofty's vision finally cleared.

"Here" David also spoke quietly, placing a hand under his son's back and trying to ignore the flinch that coursed through him. It was slightly numbed by the anaesthetic however, which made it feel odd.

Once Lofty was sitting, he tested his arms, which had minimal movement due to the surgery he'd undergone, but he managed to rotate them just enough to rub his eyes and he took another sip from the beaker.

"Max?" His words formed fully now, but his heart dropped at the new expression on Dylan's face. He rubbed his eyes again to confirm.

Dylan shook his head.


	14. He Can't Decide My Fate

Lofty stayed in hospital for four days afterwards, resting while his chest healed a little, though he'd been informed between dropping in and out of anaesthesia-induced sleep that it could take between six and eight weeks to heal completely.

Still no mention or sight of Max had been made and, had it not been for the numbing of his body and mind, Lofty would have expressed his anxiety far more than was possible at the moment.

Dylan had stayed dutifully by Lofty's side the entire time he'd been conscious or not, while David had been the one to ensure his husband was eating enough and getting what little sleep he could on a mattress beside his son's bed.

By Friday however, Dylan was getting a little worried. Maybe it was because Lofty was underweight, but the intermittened consciousness provided by painkillers should have been wearing off by now.

Ben winced as he opened his eyes into the blinding light; if there was one thing he could never get used to, it was the sheer whiteness that attacked your eyes as you awoke.

"Hey Dad" he whispered, his voice strained, "You look bad…" He reached his arms up to rub his eyes, but let them drop again when the pain became too much. "Ugh" he groaned, turning his head slightly.

"Woah, how're you feeling Ben?" David entered the cubicle, "Wait… were you talking to someone?"

"Dylan…"

"Dylan's buying coffee…"

"N' he's right there…" Lofty's words were slurred and he dropped his head back down slightly, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. He blinked and realised the space beside him was empty after all.

"Ben – I'm a little worried, I'm just going to take your temperature and do a few checks…"

David placed the duffel bag he'd brought for Dylan by the end of the bed. He'd passed Dylan in the corridor, who after four long days of waiting had decided to leave his son for a few minutes to buy coffee, although David wasn't there – David remembered the grateful expression on Dylan's face when he'd announced he'd brought him clean clothes, a new toothbrush, and food that varied from the same-y cafeteria sandwiches he'd been living off for the past four days.

Now though, David's shoulders tensed as he reached for the stethoscope left beside the bed, leaning over and listening for faint pulse. Lofty pulled away slightly as David's hand brushed his chest, and David pulled back so that he was standing straight again.

Hastily, he checked Ben's temperature and began to panic more when he cried out, grabbing at his chest, the sweat running down his face.

"Nurse!" David's shouts echoed across the ward and Dr Fairhead and a nurse came crashing into the cubicle.

"What happened?" Charlie asked, trying to remain calm as he lowered the top of the bed, where Ben's head was.

"I don't know… H-he said he saw Dylan, and then he got hot, and Dylan h-hadn't been there!" The volume of David's voice rose in his panic and Charlie checked the boy's vitals again, slamming the brakes up and beginning to wheel the bed as Lofty gasped for air, hands dragging lazily at his throat, despite the hazed anxiety of his mind.

"What's happening?!" All nurse-training flew away from David as his son was wheeled into a different corridor, the hospital becoming a maze beneath his feet as his head got louder. Charlie's shouted instructions became a messy slur of figures and David only felt himself falling when Dylan, coming back with coffee, caught him.

It took a while for David to realise he pulled up against one side of the walkway, his head resting on his husband's chest, and even longer for him to tune his hearing back in on the voice that spoke gently. It was Dylan's.

"That's it, breathe with me, breathe with me, you panicked, but you're okay…" His words came evenly, and David curled into his embrace, his breaths slowly steadying he could feel his muscles loosen and he pushed a sob back down upon noticing his face was already tearstained.

"Ben?" His voice came as a whimper.

"Shh…" Dylan ran a hand soothingly through David's hair, "They've taken him elsewhere… His chest was infected…"

"B-but you…"

"There was the rush in getting him sewn back up, and the aseptic conditions would have been disturbed by the break-in. I'm so-"

"No no no" David's voice was also hushed as they whispered as though they were in a chapel, as opposed to being pressed up against a wall in a busy hospital corridor. "It wasn't your fault Dylan"

Dylan nodded gratefully and placed his hands on his husband's forearms, gently standing with him, but supporting him in case there was a repeat, as unlikely as it was. "Thank you" David whispered, smiling nervously back at Dylan.

"Let's go to reception and find out where they've taken him"

"Okay" David took Dylan's hand and squeezed it gently for support.

It felt like there was some unknown creature clawing at the inside of Lofty's skull as he opened his eyes weakly; his head pounded in the same way he imagined it might had he a hangover (not that he'd ever drink). He felt sick, yet motionless as he became aware of his surroundings.

Harsh beeps and whirs from machines, clear plastic tubing and a sack of cloudy liquid were in his peripheral vision, and it occurred to him how little fog was sitting on his mind.

There had to be something wrong… He remembered before surgery, with the little girl, and Max's texts and the fairies, but he knew what he was feeling now wasn't right.

He was supposed to wake up in a recovery room once it was all over, not a crowded ward partnered with a wild jumble of noise, screeching and whistling and crowing.

Ben took a deep breath to clear his head, and tried to imagine himself elsewhere – on a beach, he pictured himself, coral waves and an array of pebbles stretching out for miles to his left and right-

It wasn't working.

He closed his eyes desperately against the noise and lay that way until he fell back into a deep sleep.

The next time Lofty awoke was different. His head was completely clear, and the sounds of the various machines surrounding hi didn't bother him now, with their soft bleeping sounds, a gentle reminder he was still breathing.

"Ben?" A familiar voice came from his left and he turned slightly, noting no thudding sensation as he did so; he just felt like normal.

Lofty jumped slightly when he saw a boy lying in the bed beside him, his face pallid and his fringe messed up. A breathing tube hung from his nose and the skin beneath his eyes was dark with sleep deprivation.

"Max…" He whispered, scared to speak too loudly, "What happened to you?"

"Alex stabbed me" Max's voice faltered a little with the strain of speaking as it took a toll on his tired body.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"I'm not letting Alex decide my fate" Max gasped, "I won't die in ICU"

"ICU?"

"I heard the doctors…" Max trailed off as his eyes flickered gently shut, exhaustion taking over. Lofty was glad his boyfriend was resting, but the worry sat, ever firmly embedded in his stomach.

What had happened to him?


	15. Sunsets and Rooftops

"D'you remember when I used to stay the night at yours?" Lofty's voice carried to the bed across from him where Max lay. They'd been relieved of the incessant beeping a couple of days ago when the doctors had agreed it was safe to move them back onto the paediatrics ward.

It was back to the pink elephant-based interior design.

"That was always so good… One day we're gonna do face masks again Loft" Max smiled weakly, his face brightening at the giggle that arose from the other bed.

"And… You can play the ukulele again?"

"Of course! What's a sleepover without Luke the Uke?"

"I think Dylan and David would let you stay over…" Lofty mused.

"And my grandma will always love you Lofty, she still stands by you being allowed over anytime"

"You'd want me over?"

"Well… You are still my boyfriend?"

"Of course!"

"Then that's my answer"

Lofty smiled and reached a hand tentatively across to Max's bed, and upon feeling his boyfriend's hand pawing at his blanket, Max took it gently, suddenly cocking his head to the door leading out to the corridor.

"Want to go for a wander?"

"What?!" Lofty couldn't help but laugh as the typical cheeky tone made reappearance in his boyfriend's voice.

"A wander… I heard there's a pretty insane roof garden somewhere..."

"But… we're…"

"We must be dying, am I right?" Max chuckled, sitting up carefully and dropping Lofty's hand as he pulled his hoodie from his locker.

Lofty smiled. This was the Max he knew, and he'd missed it. "We must be" he joked back, sitting up too and flicking his curls back as Max dropped his hoodie over Lofty's small frame.

"It suits you" He smiled, reaching out to crush a curl from Lofty's cheek gently. "You look awesome by the way"

"My hair hasn't had a wash in eight days, during which I've had a tissue infection, been pumped with a truckload of anaesthetic and hibernated so much National Geographic might confuse me with a grizzly bear." Lofty joked sarcastically. He looked down, fiddling with the hospital bracelets wrapped loosely around his left wrist.

"Well by those standards, you're even more stunning" Max grinned at him and placed a hand beneath his chin, lifting it so their eyes met. He leant forward, taking Lofty's hand again and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, watching in adoration as Lofty's eyes fluttered shut.

As he pulled away, he helped Lofty to stand and quickly, but carefully, guided him off the ward; they only just made it through the door as the nurse turned to face it.

Muffled sniggers arose and were choked back down between the two boys as they sped down the corridor and to a fire exit, closing it swiftly behind them. It opened up onto some fire escape stairs, towering two floors above ground level, where the car park for the ED could be seen. Paramedics ran across the ambulance parking spot like little green ants and Lofty caught his breath.

"I'm a bit scared about this Max…" He admitted.

Max's eyes flicked up to meet Lofty's brown ones. "Me too…" He whispered, looking up a little. Drizzle coursed down like a falling chain, unbreaking. "D'you think we should go back?"

"I'm not that scared!" Lofty giggled softly, squeezing Max's hand to comfort him. Max giggled back, and gently helped Lofty up the stairs.

When they finally reached the roof garden, admittedly only after one flight of stairs, they collapsed against one another, and the drizzle slowly faded away as the clouds broke apart. Beams of sunlight flooded down between the cracks and glowed along the streams of rainwater and Max leant up against a wooden bench, Lofty in his arms.

"Sky looks nice" Lofty whispered, enjoying the relaxation of finally being back with Max; this was the feeling he'd craved for over half a year and he wasn't going to waste it now.

"It does" Max whispered back, his face pressed into his boyfriend's hair, "I'm not gonna let anyone move you, okay?"

"Thank you" Lofty turned and pressed his face into Max's chest and Max held him as a sob escaped his throat. "I-I'm so s-sorry" He stuttered, hiccoughing. Max rubbed circles into his back reassuringly and rocked him slightly, waiting for Lofty's sobs to die down chokingly as his grip on Max's shirt relaxed.

"You're okay, you're okay" He whispered, softly.

"Th-nk you" Lofty whispered, sniffing as he leant against Max gently for support, painfully aware of both his chest and Max's bandaged stab-wound.

"I can see a hippo" Max announced, reaching one arm up towards the sky. Lofty turned his head a little and giggled thickly at the cloud, tinged pink at the edges by the fading sun.

"It's an elephant…It's got a nose" Lofty whispered back, sniffing again.

"Nonsense, hippos have noses too" Max spoke with a fake sincerity in his voice and Lofty giggled, burying his face back into Max's chest.

"Not long ones" He drew out the "s" in a young child's voice, giggling softly.

"Don't discriminate… It's a pretty hippo" Max replied and Lofty sat up again, wiping the tearstains from his cheeks.

"Sorry"

"What for? It can be an elephant if you like darling…"

"'M sorry for being pathetic" Lofty whispered, unable to make eye contact with his boyfriend and instead staring at a very interesting pinpoint in the distance. If he concentrated hard enough, maybe his attempts to make out the pub sign would make him disappear into his head.

"You're not."

Lofty span back to real life, his head unable to fixate on the sign any longer as he took Max's words in. "Sorry…"

"No need to apologise… I can see a – Fuck!"

"Fuck is a verb Maxie" Lofty mumbled, not moving his gaze from his boyfriend's shoulder.

"No fuck fuck fuck, get up, shit!"

"W-what is it?"

Max pointed silently, holding Lofty by the elbow. A man stood, silhouetted against the sunset on the other side of the roof.

"Shit." Lofty whispered, frozen in shock.


	16. Shock to the System

Dylan put his coffee down on by the noticeboard, flooded with risk assessments and posters explaining symptoms of meningitis and the like. With his other hand taken by David's, he couldn't imagine who could be calling him. His confusion grew when he saw Ben's photo flash up on the screen.

"Just a second" He told David, swiping the screen to the left to answer. "Ben?"

There was a soft click at the other end of the line and Dylan's muffled voice reached Ben. "Dad… Please come to the roof! Quickly!" Lofty hissed as Max's grip on his hand tightened, their fingers entwined.

"Why-What's wrong Ben?"

The line went dead, leaving nothing but a sharp whine blaring flatly in Dylan's ear.

"What is it?" His partner's eyes found his and saw the fear growing.

"We need to get on the roof. I think Ben's going to jump."

"Shit!" David dumped his undrunk tea in the bin beside the ledge and gestured to Dylan. "This way's fastest; come on!"

The breeze ruffled through the tips of his deep brown hair as he glimpsed the fire exit across the roof, before turning to the edge, his hands cool, despite the evening sun as his clothes rubbed gently against him. He took a breath and continued to stare, waiting.

"He sounded terrified!" Dylan all but shouted as he ran three steps ahead of David, sprinting with unstoppable energy in his desperation to reach the roof in time, his mind feeding him horrific images of the worst-case scenarios. With every step, the fear grew more intense, until he was running faster than he'd ever imagined he could, the adrenaline burning through his bloodstream.

"I-I got, I got to sto-" David curled in on himself, a sharp pain stabbing between his ribs, "Catch – you…up" He gasped, sitting halfway to the roof, and watching with pride as his husband continued to bolt up the stairs in his panic, until the iron staircase stopped vibrating.

Dylan must've reached the top.

He turned around to the sound of clanging footsteps up the fire escape. They sounded… frantic. It was only as the sun glinted off the corner of his eye, making his green irises glisten with unshed tears, that he spotted the two figures on the opposite end of the roof.

He couldn't tell who they were… he just had to step back… get the sun out his eyes. Placing his left foot back, his body spasmed in shock as Dylan ran out onto the roof in a frenzy.

Dylan almost froze when he saw who he did before him, one foot mere centimetres from an empty drop – a threatening three storeys drop down to the ED car park. No one could survive that fall.

The man took a breath, his thoughts spinning as he identified all three figures on the roof with him.

"Seb…" Dylan whispered, trying to mask the growl of fear in his voice with a patient-seeming whisper. "Seb, come away from there…"

Seb's eyes widened. The transgender boy held a phone in his right hand and his boyfriend's hand in his left. He must've called Dylan… That meant Dylan hadn't told Ben what Seb had been like in theater.

All the more reason to jump.

"Why are you trying to save me?" Seb hissed bitterly, "To prove me the coward you seem to think me?"

"I'm trying to save you because-"Dylan paused, "Oh for God's sake, step away from the edge so we can discuss this properly!" Dylan stepped forward to pull Seb down from the ridged ledge, but the other man sidestepped his grasp, eyes widening further as David too appeared at the top of the stairwell.

"H-how many people did h-he call?" Seb's voice began to shake and he shuffled further from Dylan.

"Seb… In a minute, you'll fall and trust me, the potential alive version of you would _not_ be grateful!"

"How would you…" Seb trailed off as an image of the laddered scars flashed in his mind, "Y-you…"

"Yes" Dylan's voice softened, "You'll have reasons now, but look back in a six months, six years, maybe even sixty; I promise you'll be glad you didn't."

Seb thought for a few seconds and suddenly the tears were overflowing, clear crystals rolling down his face, as his body wracked with silent sobs. Dylan grabbed his shoulders and tugged him down to where he stood, pulling him into his arms and crouching down as the younger man's body heaved.

"You're okay" He whispered, knowing just the support alone provided a sense of security.

David watched from the stairwell, leaning on the iron banister and picking at the rust absentmindedly as he watched his husband with pride: he took the same position David had just six months previously and he couldn't be more proud.

It was only as the two teenagers reached him, after running across the asphalt roofing that David properly realised where they were.

"Hey… What are you two doing out of bed?" He asked, only half-joking.

"Can you imagine if we weren't?" Max retorted, smiling.


	17. Bella

"Dad?"

Dylan entered the living room, a tea towel slung over one shoulder. "Yes, my boy?"

Lofty lay sideways, slouching slightly as he supported his boyfriend's frame beneath his own. "Is it okay for Max to stay the night?" Came the timid reply as Lofty gestured to where his boyfriend lay dozing softly against his shoulder.

"It appears he already is" Dylan chuckled, "Wake him gently and you can go get some stuff for him from his yeah?"

"Thank you Dad!"

"No problem… Just make sure he's got a toothbrush will you?"

"Of course" Lofty grinned back at his Dad, who left with a smile and a nod.

Lofty turned his head slightly to where Max slept, dipping it forward slightly and brushing Max's soft straight fringe from his head. He pushed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Max mumbled in his sleep, before coming to realise his surroundings and blinking himself awake; stretching and clicking his back, he leant across to where Lofty was sprawled, brushing their foreheads like they had as children.

"Happy thoughts" He whispered, meeting his boyfriend's eyes with his own, returning the smile Lofty gave him.

"Happy thoughts" Lofty replied, taking Max's hands and using them to pull himself up. "Urghhh" he laughed as they both sat and the noise made Max curl up, his body shaking.

"So… Get my stuff?"

"You were listening?" Lofty laughed, playing fake-indignated.

"Nope, just doing" Max chuckled back as they stood, "Is it definitely okay for me to stay over?"

"Only if you remember Luke" Lofty replied, taking Max's hand and pulling a beanie over his boyfriend's eyes with the other.

"I won't forget!" Max pushed the beanie back up his head, still grinning as he leant in to kiss Lofty.

"Oi!" Dylan started from the kitchen, making the boys jump, "You didn't tell me you two were an item…"

"Oh" Lofty's face fell, "Is Max still allowed to stay?"

"Ben… Do you honestly think that I, of all people, would say no?"

"Uh…"

"Ben, I have a husband, of course Max can stay!" Dylan turned slightly to face Max, "Max – you can stay"

"So you don't mind?" Lofty questioned once more, as David wandered through into the hallway where they all stood.

"N-"

"Oh my god… Are you two?" David gestured towards the boys' hands as he interrupted, before clapping his hands over his mouth and grinning. "Aww you two are so good together!"

"Thanks Dads" Lofty smiled, squeezing Max's hand gently as he blushed.

"Shall we go?" Max offered.

Lofty nodded and grabbed his keys off the hook with his other hand, before they turned to leave.

"What time are you going to be back?" Dylan asked, shaking his head fondly at his overexcited husband.

"Um… half an hour?"

"Okay, we can set up the sofa bed" Dylan replied, smiling as the two boys left, closing the door behind themselves with a wave.

Once they were both stood in the early evening sun, Max turned to face Lofty, gently taking his face in his hands and tilting it slightly, reading his expression carefully, before leaning in. Lofty nodded his head forwards slightly and their lips met for the first time in months; Lofty tried to stop the tears as it finally hit him that Max, his boyfriend Max, was finally back here.

"Hey, it's okay" Max whispered, pulling away and gently wiping at the tears on Lofty's face, "I promise I'm not gonna let anyone take you away again"

Lofty nodded at him, sniffing gently, and Max took his hand in his, stroking his thumb gently.

"I promise I won't leave again" Lofty replied, leaning into Max's arms and staying for a few seconds, before pulling away.

"Mine?"

"Yeah"

They continued the rest of the way to Max's, hand in hand and completely absorbed in one another as the temperature dropped slowly and the sun sank into the horizon, forming a pool of pink heat that dipped beneath the hills and housetops.

They walked in silence mostly, appreciating the evening and savouring the feeling of being together, but when they reached Max's house, Lofty stopped and spoke.

"I-I've missed you Maxie" His voice cracked, and there was a short silence before Max replied.

"I've missed you too Loft"

As they approached the boat, the two boys could feel the excitement of the approaching sleepover overcoming them as though they were ten year olds again, anticipating pillow fights at Max's house – except this time would be different; they were going to be sleeping where Lofty lived.

Max had known about Lofty's childhood from a young age when Lofty first broke it to him, age eleven. He'd always supported his boyfriend of seven years, and had tried to protect him where possible by means of offering for him to sleep over most weekends, and their spending the days together whenever possible – he'd even attended after school English classes to help keep Lofty's parents at bay.

Now though, they forgot the past for the evening, and Lofty could feel the weight of his childhood gradually beginning to lift. He was safe now; he had Dylan and David and most of all, Max to keep him safe and Julia and Alex were gone forever.

As realisation struck, Lofty bathed in the feeling of safety, and it was increased as the front door of the boat came into view.

"I'm so excited!" He admitted, turning to Max a little.

"Me too!" Max returned his grin and squeezed his boyfriend's hand, his rucksack hanging off the opposite shoulder jauntily, reflecting who he was completely.

They walked with matching springs in their steps the rest of the way across the harbour to the boat, not dissimilar to their younger self's skipping happily across the playground at school.

As Max followed Lofty through the door back onto the boat, he nearly bumped into his boyfriend's back Lofty stopped so suddenly.

"Christ Lo-" Max cut himself off when he saw what, or rather who, Lofty was staring at.

Alongside Dylan and David, Seb stood, but he wasn't wearing his ordinary scrubs or hoodie and cut-off shorts. Lofty stepped to one side, allowing Max to enter the boat fully, as opposed to the one-foot-in-the-door-one-foot out pose he currently held.

"Ben, Seb has something he'd like to discuss with you" Dylan announced, his breaking the silence prompting the two boys to close their mouths and Lofty shuffled a little, waiting for Max to close the door.

Seb stepped forward, his dress swishing slightly as he did so and Lofty smiled at him.

"Why didn't you just say?" The teenager was beaming at Seb now.

"I didn't know that you wouldn't judge me" Seb whispered in response, directing his gaze to the floor as he followed the two boys through to the living room and took a seat on the sofa opposite them.

"What would you like me to call you to start?" Lofty asked, dipping his own head and lifting it a little to meet Seb's gaze.

"I like Bella, and she-her pronouns" She spoke as though admitting something shameful, and Lofty smiled at her again in attempt to encourage her.

"Okay" Lofty replied, "What did you want to say?"

"Sorry" She muttered, "In theater I said some lousy things, and before that too, but I was trying to protect myself from how I feel, though that really isn't an excuse an-"

"Well 've had worse" Lofty held a pillow to his chest, a habit he hadn't dropped from before having had top-surgery. Max pulled it away and into his own arms.

"If there's anyone to ask for advice, it's Lofty" Max told him, "He's been through it all with transphobia and dysphoria and-"

"He's right" Lofty interrupted, not wanting to be reminded of all the bad times, "And I know it's nice to have a friend to help pull you through, though medical help is probably necessary depending on what you want"

"I-I know… It was a long shot I'm sorry…" Bella stood to leave and made it to the living room door, before Lofty stuck his hand out in front of her and stood.

"I want to help you" He told her gently, "Be my friend?"

"Okay" She whispered.

"D'you want to stay for a bit?" He asked.

"How can you forgive me so easily?" She asked, anguished, "I said horrible things, I refused to treat you and now you're going to let me stay?"

"I'm not letting you, I'm asking you" Lofty replied, "There's no letting; what you did is easily forgivable, I'm just grateful you came clean about it – that shows you're a good person"

Bella only nodded, so close to the verge of tears that speaking would betray her.

"Stay?" Max spoke, "Lofty promised we can watch Bambi…"

"If it's definitely okay…"

"Of course it is!" Lofty grinned, "You're a friend now!"

Dylan, David, Lofty and Max all stood at the entrance of the boat, waving goodbye to Bella who was leaving now at 8pm after having stayed to watch a film with the four of them, and then later for general conversation with Dylan and David.

"I had no idea…" David mused to himself, before turning to Dylan.

"No, me neither" The other man agreed.

"Wanna go watch another movie?" Lofty asked Max, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind and smiling into the back of his neck.

"Sure" Max's smile reflected Lofty's own beam perfectly.


End file.
